


Let the Night be Dark for All of Me

by GavotteAndGigue



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Ancient Egyptian Deities, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Gen, Jason Todd Has Issues, Light Angst, Mentions of the All-Caste, Minor Talia al ghul & Damian Wayne, Not Fluff, Platonic Relationships, Plot, Talia does her best, Talia is badass, Talia isn't Crazy, essence, minor appearances by the batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2019-11-18 18:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GavotteAndGigue/pseuds/GavotteAndGigue
Summary: Jason Todd and Talia al Ghul have a complicated relationship, to say the least. They've drifted apart and had little contact ever since Jason's reconciled with the Bats. However, one night after a disagreement with his family, Jason reaches out to Talia as a last resort to help him travel across the globe undetected. Why does Jason trust her even after their history of manipulation and lies? And does Talia still have enough affection in her heart to save Jason's life once more, or will she shepherd him to his doom?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: platonic relationship, but there is a tiny bit of sexual tension that will go away after the first chapter, mainly because Talia is a vixen through and through. There is NO SHIPPING intended in this fic. However, I DO reference Red Hood Lost Days as canon, if you know what I mean. I'll add tags as I go. This is still a WIP as of posting this first chapter.
> 
> Notes: Continuity-wise, I am mashing together all my favorites pieces of canon, including Lost Days, New 52, and Rebirth.

Acceptance.

When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud  
And goes down burning into the gulf below,  
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud  
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know  
It is the change to darkness in the sky.  
Murmuring something quiet in her breast,  
One bird begins to close a faded eye;  
Or overtaken too far from his nest,  
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif  
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.  
At most he thinks or twitters softly, 'Safe!  
Now let the night be dark for all of me.  
Let the night be too dark for me to see  
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'

\-- Robert Frost

* * *

 

Talia stood at the edge of the ballroom and sipped gingerly at the flute of champagne. She watched, somewhat disinterestedly, as people milled about on the main floor. There was a small ensemble of musicians on the other side of the room, and the sound of lush strings punctuated by the brassy licks of horns drifted over the muted voices of the finely dressed crowd. Squared black shoulders of men in tailored tuxedo jackets clustered in polite conversation. Gowns glittered in the low ambient lights, the women who wore them hanging like trinkets from the arms of the men they accompanied. Some couples danced on the ballroom floor by the musicians, though they appeared rather clumsy at their attempts to waltz, completely missing the accented step of the first figure more often than not.

Talia snorted distastefully. Her own gown was somewhat more subdued, lacking the vulgarity of glitz. Talia was too refined for that. What she wore was far more elegant -- a swathe and swirl of dark and medium green, like a malachite stone. Strong. Powerful. She was no man’s _accessory_. Anyone who dared suggest would feel the cut of her blade.

No one did. No one dared. In fact, anyone who hadn't had any direct dealing with her gave her a wide berth. Pleasantries had been exchanged, but behind all the pomp and pretense, underneath all the grandstanding bravado, and at the root of all the power plays, these people were just cowards with coiffed hair and cummerbunds.

Talia was bored with these people. She was tired of putting on airs, but thankfully she was nearly done for the night. Her business dealings here in New York had already been completed earlier, and she was looking forward to a restful night in her penthouse suite of the hotel. She only lingered now for one purpose -- to ensure that the presence of the League was noted amidst the crowd. Various businessmen, clan lords, mafiosi and the like nodded respectfully as they passed. Talia gave them a curt nod in return. Nothing was said. The fact that Talia had made an appearance was enough to remind the underworld of where she stood. Talia was feared and respected, therefore the League was feared and respected. It was simple as that.

Talia glanced around the room, noting the five points within her view in which her assassin guards were placed. There were two more placed just out of her peripheral vision, and more behind her, out of view. She turned momentarily to the side as a waiter wound through the crowd and approached, a tray of assorted amuse-bouche balanced in one hand. Talia waived him away, but when she turned back to look out at the crowd once more, there was someone standing beside her.

It was only through years of training and discipline that she managed not to outwardly show any sign of surprise. It took an expert amount of skill to sneak up on someone such as Talia, especially not without her guards noticing.

She noted his presence with a sidelong glance. At first, she thought it was Bruce -- the height, the build, the dark hair -- but the person was younger, his presence perhaps a little more aloof, but no less imposing in his own way. He felt familiar, and yet distant. A turn of her head confirmed it -- Jason Todd. A boy she had known quite well once upon a time, but now, after all they both had done she wasn't so sure anymore.

“I do not appreciate uninvited guests,” Talia commented. She kept her tone neutral and non-threatening, but not wholly welcoming either. She didn't want to appear too approachable in this setting. She turned back to scan the crowd, keeping Jason in her periphery, and signaled her guards. They were only now noticing the additional presence beside her. _Stand down_ , she signed and then added, _be alert_.

She would never admit it aloud, but Jason’s presence was somewhat unsettling. Any time one of Bruce's children showed up it meant trouble was brewing, but… Jason was _Jason_ , and that in itself brought a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite place. He had always been trouble to begin with. She had known that even before her people had found him wandering catatonic in the streets, but that knowledge still hadn't stopped her from taking him in all those years ago. It hadn’t stopped her from risking the wrath of her father by throwing him into the pit.

“Can we talk somewhere private?” Jason angled closer so that he was in Talia’s direct line of sight. It meant she would have to purposefully turn away in order to not look at him. She didn't appreciate being forced to acknowledge him, but it was effective. Talia focused on him -- Jason was dressed rather smartly in a fitted tuxedo. He had cleaned up quite nicely, and he did look rather like Bruce in so many ways. He had grown from the broken boy she had found years ago into quite a strikingly handsome young man, though somehow he still looked a bit more rugged than Bruce ever did. It was something about the wild severeness of his teal blue eyes, Talia thought. Still, he blended into the crowd of well-dressed finery, despite his hair being a little mussed with his bangs hanging down over his eyes.

Perhaps the night wasn't quite done yet, Talia thought. Jason's appearance certainly made things more interesting. It was clear he wanted something. That meant she could get something in return, and she would certainly take advantage of that. Talia had been grandstanding and asserting the League’s presence for over an hour. The posturing had its purpose, but it was tiresome and left little room to enjoy the pleasures of the soiree. The music was starting up again after a brief pause -- another lilting waltz. Couples were pairing up, and it had been a long time since Talia let herself dance. She decided she would indulge herself, even if only for a few minutes.

Without saying a word, she took Jason's hand and led him onto the ballroom floor, crossing the standing crowd and leading him toward where the couples danced by the musicians. Jason hesitated at first, but he followed, and allowed Talia to move them into closed position.

“This isn't what I had in mind when I said ‘private,’” Jason scowled at her, shifting awkwardly as Talia pressed herself close.

Talia didn't respond, instead she took the proximity as an opportunity to check him for weapons. She brushed up against his legs, felt the thigh holster there, and then ran her hand up his back -- shoulder holster under the jacket. Another hand down the front of his chest and along his side -- knife sheath in his cummerbund, but no body armour under his shirt.

“Knock it off,” Jason hissed, shifting to put some space between them. “You already know I'm armed.”

Talia smirked, “Fine.” She waited as he subtly relaxed his guard at that. As soon as he did however, she moved in close again, lifting his arms with her own to move them into dance frame, and then leading him into a box step.

Jason flushed red as he shuffled clumsily at first. He nearly stumbled as Talia led them into a natural turn, but his reflexes were fast, and he managed to catch himself quickly. Talia was only slightly surprised when once he regained his footing (and his composure), Jason adeptly synced himself to her movements.

He knew the steps, he followed the steady one-two-three of the beats. Lo and behold Jason knew how to waltz, and Talia wondered fleetingly if it was Bruce who taught him. More than likely it was their loyal manservant, Pennyworth, but that was neither here nor there. It wasn't the manservant who was here, it was Jason currently in front of her in the _now_ , and he was doing quite admirably well at playing the dance partner. Despite the severity of the frown still plastered on Jason's face, Talia was having a good time for once that night. The rise and fall of their movements were smooth and perfectly in time. The music was light and not too slow, and Talia found herself smiling as Jason continued to let her lead. She pulled them into a reverse turn, then a backward passing change, and Jason stayed with her in lockstep. They glided and turned across the floor. It felt somehow freeing. Her father had never fully approved of her learning to dance, but she had insisted that it was a necessary social grace.

“Talia, I need to --,” Jason started, interrupting her pleasant reverie, but Talia shushed him.

“I will hear your request, but you will make it _later_ ,” Talia simply stated.

Jason acquiesced and quieted, though Talia could tell he wanted to snap a retort. That was unusual for Jason, and that meant that whatever it was he wanted, it was important enough that he didn't wish to risk angering her. It seemed urgent, but not immediate -- if there was an imminent attack he would have gotten straight to the point -- so if he wasn't here to warn her or try intimidating her into doing something (not that he could), then what he wanted was likely a _favor_. He was perhaps even a little desperate if he would suffer her whims without much complaint.

Talia took note as she continued to lead them around the ballroom floor, and now that Jason had demonstrated deference to her, she took the time to study him. She had missed it earlier, but with them standing so close together she noticed that he looked somewhat pale. There were dark hollows under his eyes, and even in the dim ambiance of the ballroom, she could see that his eyes were a little bloodshot. He remained alert and steady on his feet, but it was clear that he only remained so under strain. Jason was exhausted, and the fact that Talia could discern that was extremely concerning.

The music was moving into the coda, and Talia led them through one final turn on the floor as the music ended. She released Jason, and they parted. Jason finished with a slight bow.

Talia nodded, pleased with his decorum, but it was time to go. It was time to talk and figure out what would drive Jason to seek her out, when he should have had Bruce's resources at his disposal. Talia led them out of the ballroom toward a private elevator. They were silent as they rode up to her penthouse suite above, Jason following her queues and waiting until they passed through her security measures, but his patience only lasted until the door closed behind them.

“I need your help,” Jason followed Talia as she made her way toward the master suite. “Bruce is looking for me.” Now that they were alone, he had dropped any final pretenses. He looked worn and haggard and about ready to collapse.

Talia paused from removing her earrings and turned to him, placing her hands on her hips. “What trouble are you in, Jason? What have you done to earn the wrath of your father?”

Jason pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. “Bruce isn't my father. And he and I had a disagreement over the best course of action to take.”

“I see.” Talia could tell he was being intentionally vague. He was hiding something, which wasn't unusual, but the fact that he was running from Batman wasn't a good sign. “And what is it that you would like me to do?”

“I need to get to Egypt undetected. Bruce rooted out and froze all my liquid accounts.”

“And what is it that you're offering in return?” Talia kept her tone cool and dispassionate. She didn't want to let on that she had already decided she'd give Jason whatever it was he wanted if it was within her means. However, it just wasn't in her nature to do so without exacting some sort of exchange, and she wanted to hear what it was Jason would offer up.

“My friends….” Jason shook his head and corrected himself, “I mean my _team_ , will owe you one. Anything, short of outright murder.”

A rather dubious promise, Talia thought. Jason essentially had nothing to offer, and she didn't miss that he had offered his friends and not himself.

“And where are these teammates of yours?” Talia returned to removing her jewelry, setting down her emerald earrings, and then a matching antique necklace on the dresser of her master suite. She then hitched up the slit of her skirt slightly to undo the knife sheath attached to her garter.

Jason flushed and averted his gaze. It was cute, given that they had seen much more of each other in the past, but it seemed Jason didn't want a repeat of their one-time encounter. If Talia was being honest with herself, neither did she. After she'd gotten over her fit of anger at Bruce, she had regretted using Jason in that way. At the same time, Jason's discomfort with her undressing made him distracted, and that worked to her advantage of trying to get to the root of what was going on with him.

“They helped me run interference with Batman so I could get away.” Jason turned his back to her when Talia began undoing the side zipper of her dress. “They’ll find me if they can, but Artemis and Bizarro will honor the deal,” Jason continued.

Talia didn't like how this sounded. Jason going off alone was never good. “What will you do in Egypt?” Talia asked.

“I need to return a… _relic_. Bruce disagrees with my approach, but he's wrong.”

“What does this relic do?” Talia stepped out of her dress and undergarments and headed toward the bathroom.

“Sorry, Talia,” Jason was still turned away so she couldn't see his face. “I can't tell you anymore. That’s what I'm asking. Will you help me?”

Talia considered her options. Finding a mode and route that Bruce couldn't track would be difficult. If he was truly trying to find Jason, he would have eyes on all the major airports as well as smaller private charters leaving this side of the country. Chances were that Bruce would eventually be looking at Talia's known operators as well. He never left a stone unturned. She would have to work through mercenary and trafficking contacts then, and that could take at least a few hours to line up. Perhaps that would give her time to figure out what Jason wasn't telling her, and she could arrange a mode of travel through which she could keep tabs on him.

“I accept your proposal,” Talia said as she donned a robe from the wardrobe. She stepped into Jason's view and reached a hand out to cup his cheek, “You have a long journey ahead of you, Jason. Why don't you rest while I make some calls.”

He nodded as he gently grabbed her wrist to pull her hand away from his face. “Talia, I can't thank you enough.”

“Thank me when you have accomplished what you set out to do,” she replied.

Some indiscernible emotion flickered across his face, but he said nothing more. Jason retreated from the master suite and Talia set about making calls. It took longer than she had anticipated to line up the appropriate contacts, to transfer liquid funds into an untraceable account that Jason could access, and to wait for responses to confirm transport would be ready, so by the time she ventured back out into the penthouse lounge, she found that Jason had fallen asleep on the sofa.

He didn't stir as she approached. He was out cold, lying on his side with his head pillowed on a cushion. His unresponsiveness either spoke to the level of his exhaustion, or that he somehow felt safe enough in Talia's presence to let his guard down and properly rest. Perhaps it was both, and Talia was reminded of the days she had watched over him before she had pushed him into the pit. Back then, even without his mental faculties, he had trusted her and depended on her. She had cared for him, and looked after his well-being. She had wanted to protect him. She had held affection for him. Perhaps things weren't really so different now.

The departure of the cargo plane she had arranged wouldn't be until the following evening, so Talia's first thought was to let Jason rest a few more hours. She grabbed the throw draped over the back of the sofa to lay over his sleeping form, but as she leaned in close she noticed the trickle of blood that leaked from his nose. It had soaked into the pillow under his face.

“Jason?” She tempered her voice so as not to sound too alarmed, and reached a hand out to touch his shoulder. He jolted awake, eyes wild and fearful for a moment before recognition set in.

“Talia?” He swiped at his face, likely feeling the wetness run across his lips as he spoke. “Shit,” he said as he stared down at his bloody hand.

Talia ushered him into a bathroom and pressed a towel to his face. A nosebleed was usually nothing serious, but under the circumstances she was concerned. She wasn't sure if it was a sign of some previous injury or something more serious.

She studied Jason again. He still looked pale. He kept his eyes closed as he waited for the bleeding to stop. He was breathing a little faster than what Talia would have expected if this was something trivial, and she suspected that this was not an isolated occurrence.

“Is this a pattern?” Talia decided to be direct. “What aren't you telling me?”

“It's just a nosebleed,” Jason said dismissively, and then glanced down at his wrist to check the time. “Fu-,” Jason bit back the curse, his voice muffled from the towel still pressed to his nose, “I mean, crap. I better go. Were you able to get transport lined up?”

“I'm beginning to think agreeing to this was a mistake.”

Jason furrowed his brow and pulled the towel away from his face. Blood still oozed from his nose. “If you won't help me, I'll find some other way. So unless you're going to try and keep me here, I'm going.”

He got up to leave, and Talia could see his conviction. The only way she was going to prevent him from doing whatever he was doing was if she fought him, and that would only serve to drive him away further. No, the best course of action was to continue with her original plan -- to aid him while figuring out how to steer him in the right direction.

“Wait.” Talia caught Jason's arm before he could make it to the door. “Your transport isn't until next evening. You can stay here and rest until then.”

She picked up the towel and raised it to press to his bleeding nose again. Jason took it from her before she could touch his face. “Thank you, Talia, but I should go. The longer I stay in one place, the easier it will be for Bruce to find me.”

“Alright,” Talia nodded, feeling dismayed. “I'll get what you need ready.”

She left him with the towel pressed to his face in the bathroom to load the information onto a data card. When she returned from her room, Jason was already at the front door. She handed him the data card.

Jason took it and reached for the door handle, but then paused. He turned back to Talia, “Thank you again. For helping me.”

To her surprise, he then swept her into a quick hug. She felt the embrace of arms around her, and it registered just how much bigger he was than her. He had grown so much since those days before the pit, when if anything he had been somewhat small for his age.  As quickly as the thought crossed her mind, Jason let go. He opened the door and was gone.

Talia decided she would track his transport to Egypt, and then she would follow up with him after he hit ground. For now, there was nothing more to do but go to bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think? Pretty please???? I need encouragement :[  
> Also, you can find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gavotteandgigue) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/gavotteandgigue) as well as Discord as @gavotteandgigue


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is going slowly. I'm actively working on this story though. I'm just kinda sorta burning my candle at both ends and I just don't sleep much anymore, lol.

A cold draft of air drifted over bare skin, like an icy caress of her shoulders. The change in temperature was fleeting, but noticeable. The penthouse suite was maintained at a steady temperature, and the windows and doors remained closed as part of her security measures. Her people knew not to intrude, and would have announced themselves if it was an emergency, so if there was an unexpectedly cold current of air, that meant it was coming from the outside. Therefore there was an unexpected someone in her domain.

Talia had been sleeping, and she kept her eyes closed and remained motionless as she listened for signs of her intruder. It was almost completely silent, save for the ambient sounds of the city coming from outside. If she were anyone else she would have thought perhaps she was mistaken, but given Jason's sudden appearance earlier in the night, she would almost have been disappointed if it wasn't followed up with a visitation by a Bat. The question was, which one?

She focused again on picking out any aberrant sounds…. _There._ A soft rustling. It sounded like flowing cloth. Or a _cape_.

Bruce perhaps. Her pulse quickened at the thought, betraying her better judgement before she consciously suppressed the feeling. The time for that had come and gone. All she had left from that experience was a painful ache in her heart. And Damian….

Speaking of which, the rustle she had heard -- even though the volume was dampened and nearly indiscernible, it didn't quit have the breadth and body of sound she would have expected from someone of Bruce’s size. That left two main options based on what she knew of the others’ usual attire -- the Drake boy and Damian. Talia was willing to bet the penthouse it was the latter.

Good. Talia had been wanting lately to check on Damian's development and progress. She had not seen or heard much from him lately, other than a brief appearance in the news as Robin a few weeks ago. Bruce and all his boys had taken down yet another monstrous beast set loose upon the already accursed city. Talia had noted at the time that Damian had put on a good showing, rallying with Nightwing and the Drake boy on an assault. Thinking back now, Talia had only heard passing mention of the Red Hood. Perhaps that was the beginning of Jason and Bruce's current falling out. She was still concerned about what had driven Jason to seek her out however, so Damian’s arrival could certainly enlighten her to the full picture of the situation.

Now that her son had come see her, he deserved a proper greeting. The minuscule rustling sound was now lurking in the corner of her room. Talia reached for one of the daggers she kept tucked into the side of the bed frame, and with a flick of her arm she threw it straight at Damian's chest.

He caught it between the palms of his hands, stepping out of the shadows with his usual scowl on his face.

“Well done, my son,” Talia smiled, genuinely proud that Damian had not let his guard down even the slightest.

“Mother,” the boy replied, “I trust you are faring well.” He flicked the dagger back toward Talia, who then caught it by the hilt and tucked it back into place in the bed frame.

“Of course, and you?” Talia stepped from the bed. She donned a robe over her nightgown and then stood in front of Damian. She reached a hand out, slowly so as not to indicate an attack, and touched his shoulder. He didn't move, though he was tense as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. When Talia stood up again, Damian had what almost looked like a pout on his face.

“I'm too old for that, Mother,” he said, but Talia noted that he hadn't pulled away, even though he had plenty opportunity.

“Nonsense,” she soothed. “One is never too old for a mother's love.”

Some of the stiffness eased from Damian's shoulders and there was a slight twitching at the corner of his lips. It was hard to read what exact emotion Damian was repressing, but some of the tension seemed to dissipate from the room. Affection didn't come naturally for either of them. With Talia, her father had always discouraged outward displays of affection. He had beat it out of her essentially. With Damian, it had been the same, but that was thanks to Talia's doing. It was something she found she regretted.

“Mother,” Damian was quickly back to business, “I am looking for Red Hood. Father seems to believe he may have sought you out. Do you know where he is?”

Jason had left rather quickly, stating firmly that he didn't want Bruce to find him. Did she know where Jason was at this exact moment?

“No,” Talia answered truthfully. “I do not know where he is.”

“But you know something,” Damian pressed.

“That is a rather inexact statement, my son.” Talia walked past him and out of the bedroom. “I know a great many things. You will have to be more specific.”

It was early morning now, and the sun would be rising soon -- an appropriate time for tea. She began to set the electric kettle to boil in the kitchenette.

Damian trailed behind her, “You know what I mean, Mother. Stop hedging.”

“I have already told you,” Talia intoned calmly, “I do not know where he is.”

Damian paused, crossing his arms in consternation. Talia imagined that if she were anyone else, he would have already resorted to physical violence to extract the information he wanted. Diplomacy was not his strong suit. She watched Damian set his jaw and square his shoulders, just like Bruce.

“Todd has… _taken_ something. It is immensely powerful.” Damian stated, though Talia could see he was choosing his words very carefully. There was something he didn't want her to pick up on. “If we do not find him soon, the consequences will be dire.”

“What sort of consequences?”

“Death. Destruction. The situation was momentarily contained in Gotham, but if we do not retrieve Todd, he may… Father will….” Damian trailed off and clenched his teeth. He didn't continue.

“I see.” Talia was starting to get a clearer picture. She suspected it had to do with whatever happened back in Gotham a few weeks ago when she had seen Damian, Bruce and his other boys in the news. Jason had mentioned a disagreement. Perhaps he had taken this powerful relic to serve his own purposes, and Bruce instead wanted it contained. Perhaps Damian didn't want to let on the nature of the relic in order to prevent Talia from seeking out it's power for herself. She would certainly have to look into this, if only to understand how such a power could be so divisive.

The kettle started boiling, and Talia set out two cups, each with a sachet of tea leaves. She began to pour the water when Damian interrupted, “Mother, I do not have time for this. I am asking again, what do you know of the whereabouts of Todd?”

“You do not have time to have tea with your Mother?” Talia gave him a stern look, as she set the two cups down on a nearby table.

“That is not what I meant!” Damian huffed, and then sat himself down at the table so violently the teacups rattled in their saucers. “Mother--,” he started, his voice raised to object, but then he abruptly paused as he tilted his head slightly. He was listening to the comm in his ear.

“Mother,” his voice lowered to a respectable volume this time, “I must go. I… I would like to have tea with you, but I am called.”

“Of course, my son,” Talia agreed, though there was a tightness in her chest as she said it. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her son. When he had sat himself down, even with vehement protest, she had found herself wanting to hear of his latest exploits and travails. She had done similar with Jason in the past when she had sent him around the world to train. He would sit with her every few months and rattle on and on about what he had been doing. Even though his state of mind made her uneasy, Jason had been receptive to her attention and given her the time.

Circumstances hadn't allowed her to establish the same cadence with Damian. And now, the fact that he would so quickly abandon her at the beck and call of his father… even though it had happened dozens of times over at this point, it still hurt that he would so easily choose Bruce over her.

“Go as you must,” she said, unable to completely suppress the resentment in her voice.

“Mother,” Damian got up from the table, but kept his eyes downcast, “when this is over, may I come see you? We can continue our tea.”

Talia smiled, some of her bitterness draining, feeling genuinely pleased at the unexpected prospect. “I would like that.”

“Goodbye, Mother,” Damian nodded and turned to leave.

Talia wanted to stop him. She wanted to give him another kiss on the forehead and give him a warm embrace. She wanted to tell him how she thought he was a beautiful child, and how he was the living potential of perfection, and how she believed in him and all he could accomplish… but something stopped her. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was shame. She just somehow couldn't bring herself to speak so plainly.

“Goodbye,” was all she said.

Damian departed, and Talia was left alone with two cups of tea.

////////////////////////////////////

She spent the rest of the morning searching the internet for information on the incident she suspected had started all this -- the one where she had seen Bruce and his children on the news. There had been an attack by some kind of strange chimeric beast, but for some reason news footage was few and far between. Photos and news clips were heavily distorted, and Talia wasn't sure if it was because of electromagnetic interference during the incident, or if Bruce was actively suppressing the images. It was probably both to some extent.

Either way, it was hard to make out just what it was. She could tell it was large -- bigger than the armored police cars judging by the grainy footage of it rampaging through the streets. It had a pointed snout, and some sort of hairy mane. It left claw marks in the concrete of the street, though it's back legs looked thick and stocky.

Where it had come from was even more obscure. Some reporters speculated it was a genetically engineered weapon gone rogue. Others suggested that it was a magical conjuring gone awry, and yet more reports gathered it was related to a recently confiscated shipment of black market antiquities. This lattermost seemed the most likely, given Jason's earlier indication that his disagreement with Bruce had to do with some sort of relic.

Whatever it was, Damian's allusion to death and destruction was no exaggeration. Reports counted over one hundred and sixty dead, and over two hundred injured in just the few hours that it was set loose. Some victims were eaten alive or torn to pieces. Batman and his team of proteges had managed to corral the beast toward the Gotham docks, and that was where any actual news footage became sparse. Talia was sure that Batman was actively suppressing the images at this point.

There weren't many reports of Jason during the incident, just a mention that he had been in the vicinity. There was a blurry image of the Red Hood and his partners, Artemis and Bizarro, running through the carnage in the streets. That was all. The interesting thing though, was that he had his All-Blades out, which confirmed the threat was more of an arcane origination than a lab engineered monster.

Talia closed her laptop. She was at a dead end. There would be no more public information easily available. She would have to employ hackers or get her people to investigate on the ground for further information, but there was no time for that and no guarantee that they would find anything Batman hadn’t already cleaned. She’d have to find Jason first if she wanted more answers, but she didn’t want to follow him directly to the cargo plane at the airway she had hired for him. Given Damian’s appearance, Batman could very well track her at this point, so the best course of action would be to meet Jason when he landed in Egypt.

She got dressed in something practical. Black. Fitted. Armed with pistols at her hips, a wakizashi hidden at her back, and a large furred coat to top it off. Then she packed a bag, tapped a few commands into her phone to her people: ensure a private jet is ready for departure to London, then Cairo.

Talia decided an indirect route would be best. The cargo plane Jason was heading for wouldn’t leave until late evening from a private runway upstate, and he would have to find his own mode of ground transport after he arrived in Egypt. If she left now on a faster aircraft with an indirect route, she could have her people detain him and then meet him there. She did one final check of her equipment, opened the door to her suite and shut the door firmly behind her.

////////////////////////////////////

She was intercepted while she was in a car headed to JFK airport. They blew out the tires, threw a batarang that punched through the bulletproof windshield, which subsequently began emitting a gas that forced her and the driver out of the car. There was a whoosh and an _oomph_ in the puffs of white smoke, and suddenly the driver was gone. In his place stood Nightwing -- looking slightly ridiculous dressed in his gear in broad daylight -- standing in the middle of the street in New York next to a hovering Bat Car.

“I need you to come with me,” he said, amidst the traffic that was now at a standstill all around them.  Horns blared, drivers yelled profanities out their window, and cell phone cameras were up and recording.

“That is hardly an appealing proposition,” Talia scoffed at the demand. She reached into her coat and Nightwing tensed, ready to react if instead of the phone she handled she had pulled out a gun. She almost wished she had pulled a gun, if only to wipe the smug look off his face with a bullet.

Richard Grayson had on occasion been an ally, and she understood that he had attempted to be a good, if misguided, mentor to Damian while Bruce was presumed dead. But more often than not, he was simply a thorn in her side. His good looks, charm, and easygoing demeanour were deceiving. Beneath it all, he was every bit as self-righteous, manipulative, and rigidly inflexible with his morals as his adoptive father. However, he was also perhaps the most formidable of Bruce's sons when it came to pure fighting ability, and Talia knew it wise not to take his threats too lightly.

Even so, she was not about to simply submit to an inquisition. “I have a plane to catch. If you have something to discuss, schedule an appointment with one of my assistants. I'm sure you can find the number.” She turned on her heel to walk down the street while texting a command to one of her lieutenants to send another car.

She only made it a few steps before Nightwing was blocking her path.

“You know why I'm here. If you don't want to take this someplace more private, then just tell me where he is and I'll let you go.” He avoided the use of Jason's name, given they were in public, but there was no question who he was referring to.

“Do not presume that you can _let_ me do anything.” Talia pierced him with her coldest glare to emphasize her point. “And I have already told _Robin_ that I don't know where he is, so unless you are planning to force me into your car in broad daylight, I suggest you leave me be.” Talia waved a hand in a wide arc, indicating the crowd of people who were recording their very public confrontation on their phones.

Nightwing glanced around and frowned. He was one of the most well-loved heroes, but vigilantes always walked a fine line between public support and outrage. If he was seen abducting and forcing a non-combative woman into the bat car, the media would crucify him.

Talia allowed herself a small smile in victory, and turned again to continue down the street.

“He's going to die, Talia,” Nightwing called after her, and she unwittingly stopped short. She had not been expecting that.

“What are you talking about,” she demanded.

“If you don't help us find him,” Nightwing moved to stand before her again, “he’ll die, and that will be on you.”

“Nonsense. I bear no responsibility for what happens to him.” Talia flipped back her hair in a display of indifference, but her heart had started beating faster, and there was an anxious feeling in her gut.

“We found the cushion. And the towel. It was a DNA match.” Nightwing crossed his arms. He had _the nerve_ to look disapproving. “We know you helped him.”

Damn. He had caught her out. She had neglected to have the bloodied articles disposed of right away.

“We had a business dealing,” she bluffed. “That is all. Why should I care if he lives or dies? It doesn't matter to me either way.”

“I don't believe that for a second.” He jabbed a finger in the air at her, and Talia was of the mind that if he tried that one more time she would cut it off. “You wouldn't still be standing here if he didn't matter to you. I don't know why he went looking for _you_ of all people,” Nightwing fumed, “but he did. You didn't have to help him, but you did.”

Talia didn't respond. She stood with her hands on her hips, studying the tense set of Nightwing's jaw as she assessed if he was being truthful. There was none of his usual carefree facility. There was no banter or sarcastic wit, but even if he was being sincere, that was no reason to fully trust him. He had played her for a fool before, and it was an understatement to say that they didn't like each other.

She waited him out. If he was desperate enough….

“Please,” he changed his tone. It was more beseeching -- more like Richard than Nightwing, “I need to find him before Batman does. B's only going to make it worse. I just need to talk to him and convince him to let us help him.”

There was more to this story. Jason was bullheaded, but if his life was truly at stake, Talia couldn't see him evading his family simply out of spite. She needed to know what had happened before she could determine her next move.

Talia waited another few seconds, and just as Nightwing was going to say something more, she cut him off. “Fine, but you must tell me everything.”

She marched past him to the waiting bat car. The door opened, and unsurprisingly, Damian was waiting inside. “I see you've once again wasted no opportunity to betray you mother,” Talia remarked as she settled into the back seat.

“Mother…,” Damian sat stiffly, the muscles of his neck and shoulders were rigid and tight. “You were not forthcoming with information. I simply did what I had to do.”

Talia deigned it most fitting to show her disapproval by completely ignoring him. With the doors of the car firmly shut, and now that they were away from prying eyes, Talia spoke more frankly, “What happened with that beast a few weeks ago in Gotham? Jason mentioned he disagreed on how to dispose of a relic.”

“Is that what he told you?” Nightwing sat himself in the driver's seat and set it on autopilot to some unnamed destination. The car began to hover, and took off into the air. He turned to her, and pointed at a screen on the backseat console. “It's better if I just show you.”

Talia leaned in and watched as a video began playing. It showed what looked like footage from Nightwing's mask lenses. The image was shaky, flitting back and forth across a chaotic scene as a strange beast barreled through the Gotham docks. It was indeed large, probably the size of an elephant, but with clawed front legs like a ferocious cat. A mane of tawny hair sprouted from it's head and upper torso, but it was no lion. It's face was reptilian, with a long scaled snout that sported an impressive row of sharp teeth that jutted out over it's jaws

She watched as the camera blurred, Nightwing flipped and spun before it settled briefly on images of contorted metal sheeting. The beast was tearing through the stacked steel containers on the docks with only it's jaws. Nightwing and the others were throwing various batarangs, charged with electricity, exploding with gas or erupting in flames, but none were doing the beast any damage. The beast was getting closer and closer until finally the camera angle turned away. Nightwing was running, and Talia couldn't quite follow what happened next until the image cleared again, with Nightwing was staring up into its jaws.

He was going to get eaten, but then another figure suddenly appeared between them -- a familiar brown jacket and a bright red helmet -- Jason. He slashed at it with his blades, and the creature reared back. Bizarro tackled it from the side, pinning it by its neck to the ground. Artemis joined in, lassoing it's rear legs and immobilizing it. Jason jumped forward and skewered it through the chest with his blades.

The creature writhed as Jason twisted the fiery swords in it's flesh. Blood spurted out in dark gushes from the gaping wound in its chest. It convulsed and jerked one final time and then stilled. It appeared the Outlaws had successfully killed it.

Jason yanked out his blades, but they didn't come out clean. A stream of sticky dark substance followed, wrapped around the blades. At first Talia thought it was simply gore, but then the stream of dark fluid started to ignite into bright red flames. Jason tried to shake the new flames off his All-blades, but they continued to grow. Suddenly the entirety of the beast was engulfed in flames as well, it's body now completely transformed into a roiling red inferno.

Jason backed away, but the flames, still connected to the strange blazing beast, were now climbing up the hilt of the swords and up his arms. He shook his hands and dissipated the blades, and suddenly everything was gone. The fire. The beast. Everything.

Jason stood still for a few seconds, staring at his empty hands. The others within view, namely Artemis and Bizarro, simply gawped. Then Jason lurched forward and collapsed on the ground. Nightwing and the others rushed forward. The video stopped and the screen went blank.

“What happened?” Talia demanded, turning back to Nightwing.

“We still don't really know. We’ve been trying to figure it out for weeks. We managed to piece together that it came from an ancient relic. We're not quite sure of it's origins, but it's almost like a curse that attached to Jason's blades, and subsequently his soul. The entity we saw resembles an ancient Egyptian deity known as Ammit -- the _Devourer of Souls._ ”

“And I assume you've enlisted expertise in trying to fix this situation?”

“We called in Zatanna, Doctor Fate, and even Constantine,” Nightwing nodded, and then shook his head. “We haven't been successful yet in separating the entity or lifting the curse. We just need a little more time, but Jason's not cooperating. And….” He didn't finish the sentence as he looked down at his clenched fists.

“And it's killing him,” Talia finished the thought.

He looked back at her and nodded, and even though he was currently masked, she could see the anguish on his face as he spoke his next words:

“It's eating away at him from the inside. Once it's done destroying his soul, he'll die.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I didn't know.” Talia couldn't think of anything else to say. She had thought perhaps Jason had stolen something, or that he had killed someone or done some other act that violated his father's dogma, but not that he was running away to _die_.

Talia considered her options. She had never intended to send Jason off to his demise, but if she had known, would it have changed her decision? After all, who was Jason to her? He was just some former lover's son -- some boy that had been rescued from the streets. A boy that had been beaten to death by a madman….

She reflexively closed her fist in her lap at the thought, and the edges of her nails bit into her palm. Was that all he was to her?

It was true that she had molded and shaped his pain and anger for her own purposes, but she had also defied her father to restore his mind…. She had given Jason the life he lived now. She couldn't accept that he would just throw it away. She couldn't believe that he would do that without reason. Bruce must have done something to drive him to this.

“What did Bruce do?” Talia demanded, pulling herself out of her introspection to level her gaze at Nightwing.

“I told you we've been trying to help him.” He was a little too firm in his response. It was his typical righteously indignant act, but his guardedness spoke volumes.

“ _Richard.”_ She narrowed her eyes for emphasis, looking past the mask and at the man underneath. “Do not pretend like I do not know you, or Bruce. I told you before, I want to know _everything_.”

“Bruce tried to --,” he stopped and reconsidered his words. “It worked once before when Jason was possessed by a different entity. He figured that without a life force, the entity or curse wouldn't have anything to hold on to. We thought if we could stop Jason’s heart temporarily, we could force the entity to dissociate.”

“You stopped his heart?” Talia spoke slowly. To do such a thing intentionally was extremely risky, and more often than not it was not without repercussions. Bruce must have been getting desperate. “You intentionally stopped his _heart_.” She said it again, more pointedly.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Believe me, I know what that's like. I was against it from the start, but… Bruce did it anyway. It almost worked, but we couldn’t contain it once the entity materialized. Zatanna and Doctor Fate tried different rituals, and we can get the entity to separate, but then it attacks. As soon as we revive Jason, the entity re-integrates with him.”

Talia processed his words -- Jason had been revived multiple times? That meant….

“How many times?” Talia demanded.

“We medically induced a cardiac arrest only once, but we also tried two more rituals with Zatanna and the others. They weren't supposed to hurt him, but they all had the same result -- he went into cardiac arrest.”

“You stopped his heart _three_ times?”

Richard just gritted his teeth in answer. She read the guilt on him plainly. They had _killed_ Jason, however temporary or accidental, and revived him multiple times. Flashes of what Nyssa had inflicted on her ran through her mind. Her sister had repeatedly killed and revived her in the pit. It was pure torture. It had driven her mad. If they had done this to Jason, even with the intent of saving him... Talia could barely contain the rage she felt.

“Not intentionally. Not after the first time. It wasn't supposed to happen that way,” Richard finally said. “I was against it, but Bruce took every precaution he could to keep him safe. And then the spells backfired and Jason was getting worse.” He looked down at his open palms, and then closed them. He was still blind to his own sanctimony, but Talia could see he was genuinely anxious with concern.

“He got angry and said he didn't want to do it anymore,” he continued, the frustration working it's way more clearly into his voice. “He wouldn't listen to us. He wouldn't tell us how the blades work or how to remove them. Instead, he came up with a plan with Artemis to return the artifact they thought it came from. He tried to leave, but Bruce thought it was too risky and tried to make him stay. They fought and Jason took off before we could figure out what to do next.”

“That's when Jason came to me,” Talia concluded.

“Yes,” he nodded. “We need to find Jason before Bruce does. He isn't reacting well to this at all, and neither is Jason. We need both of them to keep their cool if we're going have any chance of getting Jason to come back with us to figure this out.”

“Hmm.” Talia didn't think that was an option at all. She doubted Jason would consent to being under Bruce's thumb again, even if Bruce was doing what he did out of concern. Jason just never took well to being overruled. He had to be subtly coaxed and managed. He took better to being guided and steered, especially if he thought it was his idea. Bruce never seemed to understand that, for whatever reason, and Talia knew such behavior would only serve to drive Jason further away.

“Tim's already breaking through the encryption on your laptop,” Richard added. “We're going to find Jason either way, but we can do this faster with your help.”

Talia clenched her jaw and cast a cold glare back at him. He was intentionally leaving her very few options, but she agreed that they needed to find Jason quickly if the situation was truly as dire as Richard described. She would play along for now, and reached over to the console to punch in a set of coordinates. “There. Jason is headed toward a private runway north of here. Where he is at this very moment I'm not sure, but he can't be far.”

“Thank you,” he said curtly, then turned back to the controls and they were off.

////////////////////////////////////

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes later however, when an incoming call buzzed through the hovercraft comm:

“Nightwing, report.” The rumble of Bruce's voice seemed to fill every inch of the small cabin.

“B,” Richard looked up from the controls and back at Talia as he spoke. “We have a lead. I'm enroute with Robin. We'll scope it out and report back once we get there.” It was clear that he didn't want Bruce to know the details. He didn't want Bruce to know Talia was there with them.

There was a cryptic pause, and Talia wasn't quite sure what it meant. The tension was palpable, and judging by the look on Richard's and Damian's faces it wasn't good.

After what felt like aeons, Bruce finally broke the silence and simply said, “Talia.”

Richard dropped his face into his hands. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Hello, Beloved,” Talia said calmly. There was no point in denying it. He probably already had sensors detecting a third person in the craft.

There was another pregnant pause, and then Bruce's next words were, “I'm pulling the coordinates from the hovercraft navigation.”

“Bruce, wait!” Richard jabbed at the console, but it was too late. Bruce had already downloaded the coordinates to find Jason. “Dammit!” He slammed his fist down, and then proceeded to flip several switches before retaking the controls. “Strap in!”

The hovercraft rocketed forward and Talia was thrown backwards into her seat.

“He's going to make it there before us,” Richard said with a curse. “Damian, use the data Tim downloaded from Talia to do a scan and see if you can triangulate locations where Jason might be. We still have a chance of finding him first.”

“Tim,” he tapped the console screen and a feed of the Drake boy appeared. His arm was in a sling, and his head heavily bandaged. “Any luck tracking Artemis and Bizarro?”

“I'm working on it,” he said over the sound of tapping keys.

“Keep at it. I have a feeling this is going to be a shitstorm.” Richard signed off.

Talia settled back into her seat as they continued racing through the skies. She slid out her phone and tapped a command to her people. This was indeed going to be a _shitstorm_ , and she needed to be ready for when it happened.

////////////////////////////////////

In the end, Bruce found him first, and after that it was relatively easy to find both him and Jason. They simply followed the trail of destruction through the city until they got to the epicenter of it all.

“...then stop trying to fight me and _help_ me!” Talia heard Jason shouting as they scrambled out of the hovercraft. They had landed at the edge of a business park as Jason, dressed as the Red Hood, ran through the adjacent surface lot. It was the middle of the day, and there were people running inside buildings and hiding behind cars as Jason fired off a few rounds at his pursuer -- Batman. None of the bullets actually hit, but they tore several large holes that left his cape in tatters.

“I'm not trying to fight you, I'm trying to _save_ you!” Bruce growled back, even as he flung a bolo out that caught Jason around the ankles. Jason went crashing to the ground as the line wrapped around his legs.

Jason managed to push up on his elbows, then unlatched his helmet and tossed it aside. He coughed and spat a surprising amount of bright red onto the ground.

“Save me?” Jason laughed bitterly, as blood began leaking from his nose again. His expression was grim even with his eyes behind the domino mask, “If you couldn't save me from the Joker, how the fuck do you think you're going to save me from _this?_ ”

Bruce visibly flinched at that, and Talia winced internally too. Jason fought the dirtiest when he was feeling cornered. Bruce recovered quickly though, and rushed forward to kneel by his errant son. Jason reacted by trying to crawl away on his elbows, even with his legs still trussed up in the bolo ties. Bruce reached a tentative hand out to stop him, “I can fix this. Come home with me and we'll figure this out.”

Jason grimaced. “Come back with you?” He let out that bitter laugh again, and then raising his voice, “You mean so you can keep me _prisoner_ in the cave while you play magic eight-ball with what's left of _my life_? Fuck that. I tried it your way, and I'm done!”

He shot a fist out and hit Bruce square in the jaw, catching him by surprise. The blow knocked him backwards and onto the ground, and Jason flipped a knife out from somewhere and cut through the bolo ties around his legs. He bolted away.

Nightwing and Robin sprang in and gave chase while Bruce tried to recover, but Talia hung back and observed. She watched as they cornered Jason again, and she couldn't help the small swell of satisfaction when she saw that Richard wasn't faring much better than Bruce. Jason was lashing out, and Richard and Damian were trying unsuccessfully to subdue him without injuring him. They managed to pin him to the ground, cuffing his wrists to his ankles. She knew it wouldn't hold him long under normal circumstances, but there was a worrisome amount of blood dripping down his face.

Talia waited. It was only a matter of seconds until her people would send a signal….

 _Bzzt,_ went her phone.

Good. It meant her operatives were about to start.

_KABOOM!_

An explosion went off nearby. Gunfire rang out and several of the windows in the nearby office buildings blew out. There were screams, and people began evacuating into the parking lot, rushing past each other and clamoring to find their cars. The scene was quickly descending into chaos. Talia watched Batman take cover as he tried to assess where the shooters were.

 _BOOM!_ A firebomb hit a parked car.

 _BOOM!_ A second car burst into flames.

More people rushed out of the buildings, running through the business park in full panic.

Perfect. It was just as Talia had hoped, and her operatives were following her orders as expected. The Bats now turned their attention away from Jason to identify the threat while quelling the crowd. Nightwing and Robin helped a bystander who was  injured by a blast from the burning cars, while Batman swung away to take out one of Talia's snipers. The situation left Jason momentarily unattended.

Talia moved in. Jason was still on the ground, but he had already extricated his ankles from the cuffs. Talia grabbed him by the wrists and yanked him to his feet.

“Talia!” Jason exclaimed, “Did you do this? What the hell is going on?”

“I'm providing cover for our escape.” Talia pulled him into the midst of the panicked crowd, navigating toward the edge of the parking lot where a woman was just entering her car to flee. Talia yanked her out of the way and took the keys from her hand.

“I’ll be taking this,” she barely gave the woman a backward glance as Talia pulled open the backseat door and shoved Jason in.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Jason protested as he finished freeing his wrists from the cuffs.

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice,” Talia countered as she got into the driver's seat and turned the ignition. She floored the gas. There was a _thunk_ and a curse as Jason was thrown back into the seat, but she didn't have time to check on him.

“Gee, thanks for sicking your League assassins on innocent bystanders,” Jason snapped back at her.

“For the record, my orders were to not incur any unnecessary casualties.”

They whipped out of the parking lot to the smell of burning rubber as Talia maneuvered them onto the main thoroughfare. She zipped past the traffic, weaving through the lanes until she gunned it onto the freeway onramp at a hundred miles per hour.

“Shit!” Behind her, Jason had strapped in and was holding onto the door handle with a death grip. “Where are we going?”

“I have several safehouses, but we must evade your father first.” She pointed out the window to where there was a batplane following them in the skies. Talia pulled out her phone again to direct her operatives to provide air cover. The car swerved as she tried to punch in the commands, and there was another _thunk_ in the backseat.

“Oh for chrissake!” Jason whined, “No texting while driving!”

“You're welcome to take the wheel!”

Jason seemed to contemplate it. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached both hands forward to climb into the front passenger seat, when Talia saw something flung down from the batplane onto the road. It landed in a neat line across the expanse of the road -- a spike strip.

Talia slammed on the breaks, but they were going too fast to avoid it. There was barely enough time for Jason to tuck back behind the front seat when there was a loud popping sound and a sudden jolt. The car was suddenly spinning out. The airbag deployed in her seat as they crashed into the railing, and for a moment everything went black.

When Talia opened her eyes again, traffic all around them had stopped, and the batplane had landed on the freeway in front of them.

“Hnngh.” A groan behind her, and Talia turned to see Jason trying to push himself up. The window beside his head was cracked and bloody.

“Jason!” Talia struggled to disentangle herself to open the ruined door. Outside, Batman had opened the cockpit to the plane and was now approaching. Talia jimmied the latch of the driver side door. It wouldn't budge. The crash had crumpled the frame and they were stuck.

Talia considered her next course of action… her operatives were currently too far away. She wouldn't win in a direct fight against Bruce. Jason was incapacitated, and judging by the glaze of his eyes, in no shape to run. She could leave him behind and escape herself, but….

“Talia,” Jason was still trying to scoot himself into a sitting position, “I need to get out of here. I can't let him take me… he'll lock me in the cave.”

Talia grabbed his hand and tried to pull him up. His weight was off balance however, and in the small confines of the car, she struggled to get the proper leverage. Jason stopped moving and leaned back again. Blood trickled down his face from a cut at his temple. More blood leaked from his nose. He looked pale and exhausted.

It wasn't just the car crash. Something was very wrong with him, and Talia needed to figure out what his side of the story was. To do that she needed to get Jason somewhere alone and away from the others, but how?

Her answer came in a flash of blue and red that quickly blocked Batman's path toward their vehicle. At first she thought it was Superman, but then she noted the gray-white skin, the patchy hair and slight hunch of the shoulders -- it was Jason’s comrade, Bizarro. He shot forward and grabbed Batman by the cape and flew off with him into the sky.

There was a sudden grating sound as the steel of the car doors was suddenly wrenched open. There stood Jason's other comrade -- Artemis.

“Jason!” The Amazon reached into the backseat and pulled him out. She tried to put him on his feet, but after he teetered and nearly fell, she sat him down to lean against the car.

Jason looked up at her, “Artemis, how'd you find me?”

“ _Pfft,”_ she huffed. “We merely trailed Nightwing after the news reported his confrontation with that woman,” she jerked her thumb at Talia. “After that we only had to follow the sound of explosions.”

Talia climbed out of the car to kneel beside them. “I hate to break up your tête-à-téte, but we must go. You have bought us a reprieve,” she said to Artemis, “but Batman will no doubt be returning soon.”

Artemis turned to look at her, and her green eyes were hard and cold like glaciers. “Do you trust this woman?,” she said to Jason, without taking her eyes off Talia.

“Talia's helping,” Jason nodded, though the movement seemed to give him pain. He closed his eyes, but said, “I might have kinda sorta promised her that you and Biz owe her a favor.”

Artemis narrowed her eyes, clearly unhappy with the prospect, but she didn't argue. Instead she leaned in close to Jason, and in a hushed tone, “Listen, as the Shim'Tar, Nephthys will hear my prayer, but it is not Egypt where the gods still hold power. Instead, we must go to what's left of my people, in _Qurac_.”

Something flickered across Jason's expression. His eyes were still closed, but it was like an instinctive recoil. When he opened his eyes again, he had plastered a bleak smirk across his face. “So she wants me to die in the same place _twice_? Figures.”

“This is no laughing matter,” Artemis said. “The aspect of _Ammit_ inside you is corrupted. Only the gods can make this right. The Amazons of Bana-Mighdall know their ways.” She handed Jason some sort of cylindrical case that had been strapped over her shoulder. It was about a foot long, and made of some sort of bronzed metal with an intricately etched design.

“Take this,” Artemis said as she slung the strap of the cylinder over Jason's head. Her hand lingered on his shoulder. “When we first met, I told you that you weren't good enough, but I was wrong. You're a better man than you think you are, Jason.”

Artemis hoisted Jason up onto his feet and began to usher him away. Talia got up as well and made to commandeer another car, but a shadow suddenly befell them.

There was a flutter of a dark cape and the metallic whip of wire, and Talia barely dove out of the way before Batman was barreling into Artemis. They went skidding across the pavement, and Jason went sprawling to the side. Talia was up again quickly. She ran toward where Jason was still prone on the ground, but Nightwing and Robin blocked her way.

“Talia, stay out of this!” Batman joined them in blocking her path. “And you,” he pointed at Artemis, “you are recklessly endangering him. You call yourself a teammate, but you are going to get him killed!”

Artemis was not cowed in the slightest, and Talia was mildly impressed as she watched the Amazon pick herself up to stand squarely against the Batman. “I am respecting his wishes to cease this Russian Roulette you are playing with your witchwoman’s spells,” Artemis growled back. “I am respecting his wish to die honorably if need be. I've seen the memorial -- was it not _you_ after all, who called him a good soldier?” She held out her hand to the side and cried, “Mistress, to me!”

An enormous axe came flying out of nowhere. The blunt end would have smashed straight through where Batman and his proteges stood if they hadn't scattered as soon as Artemis called her blade.

The battle axe flew neatly into her hands as she shouted to Talia, “Take him and go!”

Talia wasted no time. Several bystanders had fled their cars during the ruckus, and she pushed Jason into the nearest backseat and slammed the door firmly shut. She reached to open the driver's side door, only to retract her hand quickly as a batarang struck the handle.

“Back off Talia,” Nightwing flipped through the air to land atop the hood of the car. “I don't know what you hope to gain from this, but I'm not gonna let you--.”

He was abruptly cut off as he was swept away by a blur of red and blue -- Bizarro was back again.

“Nightwing!” Damian set after him immediately, and Talia felt that sting of bitterness again. As usual Damian had chosen another over her, and she stamped down the unwanted emotion. There was no time to dwell on yet another regret over her son. He was under no real threat anyhow -- the bats and Jason’s comrades would do each other no actual harm. She focused instead on the sole person who did want her help: Jason.

Talia got in the car and sped off.

////////////////////////////////////

They switched cars several times to throw anyone off their tail. Talia looped back into the city. She looped back out. She pulled Jason out of the car and through the train station until one of her operatives met them with yet another car. They drove out of the city again, this time southward toward Washington D.C. where she had another cell of operatives.

They had missed the transport rendezvous she had previously arranged for Jason, but it was moot at this point. That particular route had been compromised when she had been forced to give up the location earlier to Richard. She needed a new plan now, and not to go to Egypt, but instead to Qurac -- the place where Jason had died the first time….

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as she spared a glance back at Jason. He had thankfully stayed awake, and had wiped most of the smears of blood away from his face, but he remained oddly quiet as they drove through the night. Talia remained quiet as well, silently wrangling her thoughts on how the situation had so quickly spiraled out of control.

She was feeling both relieved and irate at the outcome. They had escaped with Jason mostly in one piece, but shepherding a wayward Robin to his second untimely doom -- while fighting his overzealous family -- was not something she wanted to sign up for. She had no desire to get in the middle of yet another of Bruce and Jason's bitter feuds. There was a point in time where she would gladly have watched Bruce suffer for his arrogance and his role in the death of her father, but that was before.

She had rebuilt since then and now she had her own endeavors to pursue and her own empire to run. She had business dealings across the world to solidify the reach of the League in various political arenas. It had been her plan to follow through on several European partnership over the next few days, but now her schedule for the rest of the week would be blown if she was to deal with _this._ Drawing the eye of Batman and his cohorts was counterproductive to her plans. _Jason_ had not been a part of her plans, and Talia fought down a surge of irritation at that.

Jason didn't make the best choices, but he should have known better than to put her in this position. He had intentionally deceived her, knowing full well that Bruce would blame her for interfering if he found out, and for all intents and purposes Talia was now on the run from him too. This was not what she wanted to be doing now, or ever again.

Talia continued stewing. By the time they made it inside her safehouse she was fuming.

She marched Jason up the stairs, half dragging him by the wrist through the door and into a small apartment. Once they were ensconced inside, she spun to face him, then slapped him in the face.

Her palm connected with a loud smack. It wasn't forceful enough to do any damage, but just enough to leave him smarting. Jason didn't block, even though he very well could have.

“Is it true?” she demanded. “Is it true that you used me to fund an expedition to end your own life?”

Jason stared at the floor. “That wasn't how I was thinking about it.”

“Then tell me how were you thinking about this, Jason.” Talia placed her hands on her hips, forcing herself to dial back her temper. She needed to figure out how to get him to talk, but Jason didn't respond well to coercion. He was more tractable when he felt like he had a play…. Maybe that was it. She needed to let him know she was still in the game. She needed to offer something up to see if he would bite, like the _Queen's Gambit_ in a game of chess.

She made the opening play -- “I can still honor our agreement, Jason. You can have my resources at your disposal, but on the condition that you tell me the truth.”

He didn't answer immediately, and when he did, he changed the subject -- “Why were you with Dick and Damian?”

_Queen's Gambit Declined._

Alright then. So that's how he wanted to play this.

“I was far too lenient with you, Jason, but I will not be put in a position where I am unwittingly pitted against Batman again. I can walk away, and you'll be hard pressed to find another benefactor willing to bargain. You have nothing but the tenuous assurance that your teammates will honor an agreement for which they are not present.”

Talia hardened her glare. Jason looked away. Good, she had gained a _tempo_ \-- an extra move was now in her court.

“Richard showed me the footage from when it happened,” Talia went on. “He told me Bruce tried to exorcise this _thing_ several times, but ultimately failed. Then you ran. I’ve heard their side of the story, now I want to hear yours.”

Jason scowled, then crossed his arms. He had his guard up, but the lack of rebuttal was essentially an admission of defeat. Talia studied him for any signs of subterfuge but saw none. She had him, all she needed to do was wait for him to speak.

“There isn't much more to it,” he finally said. “Artemis thinks this thing is a corrupted aspect of one of her gods. It's some sort of goddess of death that got loose when a stash of illegal Egyptian artifacts went up in flames. Artemis thinks it included sacred relics looted from Bana-Mighdall when the city was originally destroyed.”

“Is that where the artifact she gave you earlier came from?” Talia asked.

Jason nodded. “This,” he held up the cylinder, “is the relic it came from. We can't figure out how to put it back in, and we can't kill it. Artemis couldn't even hurt it with her Bow of Ra, so she thinks the gods want it returned. Even Doctor Fate and Constantine agreed with us -- we need to take this thing back to where it came from. We just have to take it back via _my soul_ to the underworld.”

It made a sort of sense. It was logical, but Talia couldn't help but notice how Jason said it too matter-of-factly, like he was delivering a parcel to an address out of town rather than potentially sending himself to his own demise. There could still be more Jason wasn't saying, and he was either repressing how he really felt about this or he was in complete denial.

“I can see now why your father would be upset,” she carefully matched Jason's neutral tone, though his explanation had seeded an anxious knot in the pit of her stomach. “He must have tried to find some other way.”

“He's not my father,” Jason reiterated his earlier sentiment. “I tried it his way a bunch of times, and every time I nearly _died_. I can't do it again. I can't keep going there and coming back like that. Even if I survived, there isn't going to be anything left that's _me_. Bruce wouldn’t listen to me. He thinks he can fix this, but he can’t. I don’t want him to….” There he faltered, and Talia briefly saw a glimpse of what he was truly feeling -- fear.

Jason regathered himself and put his hands outward and unfurled his palms. There was a sputter of flame, and the All-Blades appeared in his hands. Talia had seen them before when Jason had left the All-Caste -- back then the blades were all shining metal and brightly burning fire. Now, the blades were dark and heavily corroded, so much that half of one of the swords had already rusted away. The flames that flickered around them were a dull red, just barely visible.

“You didn't see what this entity could do, Talia. It _eats_ people. Their souls. Everything. It almost ate Damian if Tim hadn't jumped in front of it like an idiot. This,” he waved the brittle blades in the air, “is the only thing keeping me alive, and when they're gone, it's going to eat everything that's left of me. Bruce never wants to accept that death is the answer, but it might be the only answer that's going to work.”

“What of the All-Caste?” Talia suggested. “They may be able to find a solution.”

“The All-Caste is pretty much gone,” Jason shook his head. “Only Essence is left, but she won’t be able to reinstate the All-Blades, especially if there isn’t a soul to graft them to. Separating the blades from me won't help either. They're the only thing stopping the curse from directly eating what's left of me.”

“Have you considered a Lazarus Pit?”

“No,” he said immediately, and then added, “what would be the point? There won't be a soul left to restore. If I die, I don't want to be brought back. Not like that.”

“You don’t know for sure that going to Qurac will result in your death,” Talia assessed.

“I know that if the All-Blades break before I get there, it won't matter.” Jason flicked his wrists slightly and the blades disappeared. It left a faint metallic tang in the air.

“If I say no, you're going to do this alone.” Talia knew it for a fact. Jason had set his mind on this course, and it would be difficult to turn him away from it. She still didn't fully understand why. Jason hadn't really explained his motivations. He didn’t explain why he was running away from his family and why they wouldn’t support him in seeking what Jason believed to be the only answer.

Was Jason being reckless? What had really happened when Bruce's attempts had failed? Whatever it was, it had left Jason feeling angry, and perhaps even resentful and betrayed. Talia wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation, but it left her feeling surprisingly distraught. Whether it be from some lingering affection of his time in her care, or misplaced responsibility given that she was the one who had given him back this life, she wasn't sure. Only one thing was clear -- she didn't want him to do this alone.

“Yes,” she found herself saying. “I will help you get to Qurac, on the condition we seek answers with the All-Caste if possible. If we find no remedy there, we will see what the Amazon's can offer, but we will discuss any solution before you take action.”

Jason scowled, but nodded. “Okay. I guess I'll have to accept that.”

Talia released a breath she didn't realize she was holding, but she didn't quite feel relieved. If anything, this was only the beginning, and she only hoped that she could find a solution before it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been super busy, and I say that everytime, but I've really seriously been swamped and surviving on unhealthy levels of caffeine. So like, stress to the nth degree with my job... but I would feel amazing if you left a comment! Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Getting to out of the country was relatively easy. Getting out of the country _undetected_ wasn't, especially when Batman and his cohorts would have eyes on every airport and runway within a few hours drive of the eastern seaboard. A direct flight would have been completed in less than a day on a private jet, but Talia had no doubt that Bruce already had his satellites pointed to track that particular flight path. They would have to choose an indirect route, and commercial flights were out of the question, given that Bruce had most assuredly already hacked TSA security. Talia just had to get over the hurdle of getting them out of the States. Once they were in other territories, Bruce's reach would be more limited and Talia would have more options.

As it was, Talia had to get creative. Perhaps another mercenary transport would work, or she could strike a deal with one of her political connections. She began scanning through her encrypted contacts on her phone to assess possible candidates when Jason interrupted her train of thought.

“Let me see,” he said, and held out his hand.

Talia paused and looked back at him. Jason was sitting across from her in the small kitchen of the apartment. He had been fiddling with the strap tied to the cylinder Artemis had given him, replacing the worn leather with a buckled sling made of nylon webbing. His hair was still slightly damp from a shower -- she had insisted on getting him cleaned up and changed after she agreed to help him, and Jason had complied with little protest. He still looked exhausted. There was a large gash across his temple that Talia had cleaned and bandaged with liquid stitches, along with vivid purple bruising on his face from the fight and subsequent car crash. He didn't look well at all, but she had managed to get him to eat an MRE at least.

“Come on,” he smirked, “I swear I won't fuck up your Candy Crush game.”

Talia frowned. It wasn't prudent to hand over her private contacts so easily. She protected the names of clients with the utmost secrecy.

Jason sighed, “I promise I won't use the information against you, cross my heart and hope to die.”

Talia glared daggers at him.

“It was a  _joke_ ,” Jason kept his hand out and wiggled his fingers. “Seriously though, I can probably get some ideas on who we can use. I have a better sense of who Bruce is tracking and who’s slipped under the radar.”

“You have a point,” Talia said with a sigh, and relinquished the phone. Jason quickly swiped through, pausing after a minute and handed it back. He then started quickly typing something into a laptop that had been part of the supplies in the safehouse.

“Here's our ticket,” he said, turning the laptop to face her. There was a picture of a familiar dour-looking gentleman on the screen. He was actually well known to Talia -- the League had put down over a dozen dissidents and political adversaries for him over the last decade or two.

“Vaslav Vishnevskaya,” Jason confirmed. “Russian diplomat. Former KGB. Current spy and double agent for the Americans. He's got a private aircraft scheduled tomorrow with diplomatic clearance out of the country. Next stop: Rhelasia.”

“You want to use a diplomatic charter to get out of the country?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Clever,” Talia nodded. Jason had always been rather creative when he put his mind to something. “But getting to Rhelasia doesn't get us to the Himalayas to find the All-Caste, nor does it get us to Qurac. We may buy some time if he's looking for you in Egypt, but another stop will take time, and your fa--.” Talia cut herself short as Jason immediately scowled. “ _Bruce_ ,” she corrected herself, “will be waiting for us if we do end our journey in Qurac.”

“He's probably going to beat us to Qurac regardless. At least if we get to Rhelasia, we can access more of your assets. I'm willing to bet your connections are extensive enough there that we won't even have to sneak around nearly as much. It'll give us time to plan.”

He was right. The League had close ties to the long-ruling dictator, and her assets and resources were more accessible with a government that was more open to _bargaining_ than one such as the US. Talia would have no trouble finding transportation from there, and Batman would have a more difficult time tracking their movements. However, it could add at least a day to their travels, and Jason was already looking the worse for wear.

“Do you have that sort of time?” Talia asked. She softened her tone, but didn't break eye contact.

Jason looked away first. “Probably. It took a few weeks to get to this point. I can probably spare a day.”

He probably couldn't, Talia thought, but getting to their final destination a day sooner might also mean he died sooner. She needed more time to figure this out. It looked like stopping in Rhelasia wasn't such a bad option.

“How do you propose we get on this diplomatic flight?” she asked.

“Easy,” Jason grinned mischievously. “Just go and ask him. I'm pretty sure he'll strike a deal once he knows that he's been made as a double agent for the Americans. The Rhelasian government is going to arrest him and allow him to be extradited back to Russia to _stand trial._ ” He punctuated the last phrase with air quotes.

“Should I even ask how you came about such information?” Talia was a little impressed at how quickly Jason had come up with the plan.

“You kick enough Russians out of Gotham, you learn a few things,” Jason shrugged. “So do we have a plan?”

“We have a plan,” Talia agreed.

////////////////////////////////////

It wasn't quite as simple as Jason had made it sound, but Talia had paid Vishnevskaya a visit that morning, and he was surprisingly amenable to the arrangement once he exacted some concessions.

“He wants us to what?” Jason exclaimed, when Talia explained the new additions to the plan.

“Fly him over a designated drop point over the Atlantic. Then we'll continue to Rhelasia, where you'll impersonate Vishnevskaya for the landing long enough to throw the Rhelasians and their Russian conspirators off his tail.”

“Drop point over the Atlantic?” Jason arched his brow disbelievingly. “You mean we're going to push him out of the plane in the middle of the fucking ocean?”

“Language,” Talia scolded. “And it's nothing nearly so sinister. There will be an American submarine waiting to rendezvous with him.”

“And I’m supposed to what?” Jason waved his hands in the air, “Parade around as a traitor until someone shoots me?”

“You will do no such thing,” Talia flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I'll kill everyone first before they can shoot you.”

“Right. Like that's gonna work,” Jason dismissed, and then paused. “Wait. You're serious?”

Talia simply smiled.

“Um, okay. Don't answer that,” Jason facepalmed. When he brought his hand away, he was back to business. “I doubt it will come to that. The Russians want Vishnevskaya alive, they won't kill me as long as they think I'm him.”

“You’ll play him only for a brief entrance on the tarmac.” Talia handed him an E.M.P. mask Vishnevskaya had procured. It would project an image over his countenance that was good enough to fool even high grade cameras. “I'll create a diversion so you can escape,” Talia added. “Are we in agreement?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jason nodded.

They snuck into the embassy that very morning. From there, the two of them, along with Vishnevskaya, rode in a diplomatic plated car over to a small military runway. The Russian envoy was unsurprisingly grim and aloof, and though he was well into his sixties, the spy game had ensured he kept relatively nimble and on his toes. Underneath his pressed and tailored suit Talia could tell he was still able-bodied and athletic. She knew he was well capable, though not as much as Jason or herself, of taking down most common adversaries should they come under attack.

He didn't speak much at first, but after a few beats of hard staring between Jason's signature glower and the Russian's trademark _national scowl_ , Vishnevskaya gave a small grunt. It wasn't quite approval, but acknowledgement perhaps, and then he reached into the limousine cooler and brought out a bottle of Russian Standard.

“For the road,” he said as he poured three shot glasses. Talia took the glass, but didn't drink. Jason hesitated, watching warily as Vishnevskaya downed his shot. Jason waited a moment more, but then followed suit. He then reached for Talia's glass.

“Jason,” she warned, but he ignored her and downed the second shot.

“Not bad, for an American,” Vishnevskaya nodded.

It seemed to melt the ice however, because by the time Jason had strapped into a seat in the jet cabin, they were talking animatedly.

“No way,” Jason shook his head, “that shit ain't real.”

“I am telling you it is real,” Vishnevskaya chuckled. His accent was faint, but his consonants were still hard and seemed to make his point all the more punctuated. “Temporal-dimensional fissure experiments brought the woolly mammoth to Siberia.”

“I saw that video online. It's been debunked.” Jason was still shaking his head. “The original video didn't have a mammoth. The guy who filmed it said so.”

“Ha! Russian disinformationists altered the original video to _remove_ the mammoth,” Vishnevskaya insisted. “And you can pay anyone to say anything. It is much easier for the public to believe lies than the truth, when the truth is nothing but strange.”

“True,” Jason agreed, and then snidely, “You can lead a horse to water and all that. It sure gives you faith in the future of our species.”

They went on like that for a while, until eventually they lapsed into a sort of silent camaraderie. Jason leaned back and closed his eyes, seemingly asleep, and Vishnevskaya turned to Talia.

“Such a waste, what you do,” he said disapprovingly.

“And what do you mean by that?” Talia replied, her guard instantly up.

“Destroy lives. Ruin potential. This boy is going to die, and it is a shame.”

“I wasn’t the one to ruin him first,” Talia defended.

“You do not have to be the first. Only the last,” Vishnevskaya continued undeterred.

“And _you_ would know.” She was growing incensed at his gall. “I didn't hear you complain when those I ruined were in the opposition party.”

“Perhaps not, but it does not mean I have never paid the price -- that I am not paying it _now_. I know the consequences of your work well. I know for a fact it is a _shame_.” He let it drop after that, and Talia was disinclined to continue the conversation until it was time for the air drop.

Vishnevskaya donned a jumpsuit along with the small crew that had boarded with him. Jason moved up to the cockpit and took the pilot’s seat as the others made preparations. Talia watched them as they readied their equipment -- pressure suits, helmets and oxygen masks, transmitters, altimeters, and firmly strapped packs. At the last second before Talia turned to shut the cockpit door, Vishnevskaya pulled her aside --

“In a game of chess, the endgame is often decided by the promotion of a pawn.” He raised his index finger, literally jabbing his point into the air. “But what does the queen have left, if she has already sacrificed all her pawns?” he said, and then quickly stepped away.

Talia didn't react. She schooled her features to neutral, then closed the cockpit door and took the co-pilot's seat. She wasn’t sure if Jason had overheard, but he didn’t comment. He merely looked at her for a long moment before donning his oxygen mask. Talia followed suit as he began procedures to open the tailgate. Vishnevskaya and the crew bailed out, and Talia and Jason were left alone for the final leg of the flight.

“Hardcore Russian bastards,” Jason muttered, when the the cabin was re-pressurized and their course charted to Rhelasia.

“Indeed,” Talia stated, as she continued to contemplate Vishnevskaya’s last words.

////////////////////////////////////

Rhelasia did not go as planned. As soon as they landed, Talia knew something was wrong. For one, the guards on the tarmac weren’t in their military full dress, as would be expected for a diplomatic greeting. They were wearing combat gear and fully armed. Even if they had planned to simply arrest Vishnevskaya on the spot, it wouldn't normally require this level of aggression.

Jason had changed to a formal suit and tie over his kevlar, strapping on a voice modulator and putting on the E.M.P mask to replicate Vishnevskaya’s visage. He handed the cylinder from Artemis over to Talia for safekeeping. He had kept it close the entire time, wearing it under his jacket and strapped tightly to his chest.

“Don't open it,” he said, before reluctantly handing it over. “And whatever you do, don't lose it.”

Talia took it, slightly curious about his protectiveness over the object. She inspected it briefly. It was the first time Jason had let her hold it, and she noted the mysterious inscriptions on the surface of the metal -- they were finely carved hieroglyphs decorated with some kind of swirling design. It looked like bird feathers, but Talia wasn't completely sure without looking more closely. There wasn't time for that, so for now she simply slung it over her head and tightened the strap snuggly.

“So, how should we do this?” Jason said, once he seemed satisfied that Talia wouldn't simply discard the object as soon as he wasn't looking. “I just walk out as Vishnevskaya and huff and puff in outrage once someone points a gun at me?”

“You must at least make a show of attempting diplomatic contact,” Talia agreed. “I’ll stay aboard and act as cover.”

Jason checked over his various sidearms and tucked them under his jacket, then lowered the tailgate and walked down onto the runway. He made it a few paces, walking directly toward the commanding officer with a hand held out in greeting, but the overture wasn’t returned.

“ _I was expecting General Li,”_ he called out in broken Rhelasian. Jason was making a fairly decent show at intoning a Russian accent.

“ _He will not be coming,”_ the officer replied. “ _The Country of Rhelasia is now under the direct orders of General Yoon. Vaslav Vishnevskaya, you have been accused of conspiring with former General Li against the welfare of the people, and we have orders to bring you in for questioning!”_

Well that was certainly unexpected. Somewhere between takeoff and landing, a military coup had started, and the long-time Rhelasian dictator, General Li, had been deposed. Talia could have counted on General Li to concede to Russia’s demands to return Vishnevskaya alive, but it was more likely the newest dictator simply wanted him dead. That meant Jason was in danger.

To his credit, Jason had already begun moving into a more strategic evasive position, even while he stomped his feet in indignation and shouted expletives in Russian. He was playing the outraged dignitary for as long as he could, because as soon as they realized he wasn’t the real deal, there would be no hesitation to kill him.

Talia readied herself, scanning the soldiers for signs they were ready to fire. Jason was still too exposed for her to fire first -- he wouldn’t be able to find cover before they returned fire. Talia took aim at the commanding officer. The soldier’s were waiting for his cue.

Jason angled himself to the side, bending his knees slightly, and Talia could see he was readying himself. She could practically see his next move. Any moment now….

“ _Fire!_ ” the officer shouted, and at the exact same time, rather than turn and run as they expected, Jason launched himself _forward_ into the line of soldiers. At close range, they couldn’t rely on their rifles given the risk of friendly fire, and Jason excelled at close quarters combat. He kicked in the teeth of the first guard, upper cut into another's throat, then flipped and axe kicked down onto the trapezius of another.

He took down several of the guards in a matter of seconds, and nearly wrestled the commanding officer to the ground, but the sheer numbers were overwhelming him. He was moving slower than she expected too. He was taking hits that she had seen him easily avoid in the past. Jason was clearly not in top form, and Talia was already regretting putting him in such a vulnerable position. She aimed and fired at the soldiers toward the periphery of the melee, taking out four of them before the others gathered themselves to return fire.

A barrage of bullets hit the steel fuselage and Talia ducked back up the tailgate. There were too many of them, sending off volley after volley so that there was little she could do but wait until enough of them exhausted their cartridges to reload. When she managed to edge out again to take down another two, she caught site of Jason -- there was already a bright red trail of blood running down his nose when a soldier caught him with a blow to the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. Jason went down and several of the soldiers dragged his limp form into a car.

Damn.

Talia quickly edged out again, sharpshooting another five in succession and the rest of the soldiers scattered. Good. She rolled out and down the tailgate, picking off another two as she scanned for the car she had seen them pull Jason into, but it was already speeding away.

She fumbled out her phone, and began to bark orders: “Get eyes on this location. Track a black state limousine leaving the runway. Get me the location of the headquarters of the new regime.”

There were protocols for activating a cell, and sometimes it took time to get her sleeper agents running, depending on where they had been installed, and especially when they hadn't been expecting her arrival. She hadn't sent word ahead for fear that Batman would intercept her ciphers, but in hindsight it would have been prudent. She would have had warning. Nevertheless, Talia didn't have time to dwell on _could-haves_.

She needed to get to Jason quickly, and dealing with a political revolution was not in her plans. She remembered General Yoon from previous dealings in Rhelasia. He had always been too much of an idealist, always pushing to break down the countries isolationist policies that made it a perfect haven for organizations such as the League. General Yoon had not been a friend, and now his revolution threatened Jason, not to mention access to her resources, her business partners, her property and all her assets.

This wouldn’t do. She picked up the phone again.

“Find General Yoon and _kill him_.”

She hung up the phone, commandeered a vehicle and drove off in search of Jason.

////////////////////////////////////

It took longer than she anticipated to find him. The streets of the capitol were in chaos, and the state vehicle that her operatives had been tracking had quickly disappeared into a maze of weaving streets and intersecting highways before they were able to get a satellite tracking it. It was several hours before her people managed to pinpoint his location to a military barrack on the other side of the city -- the same location as the headquarters of the revolutionist General Yoon.

“Lady Talia,” her lieutenant’s voice filtered through the comm, “The general and his men were already dead when we found them. We also found the boy.”

“Alive?” Her heart seemed to stutter at the pause that followed.

“He is alive, but… my lady, he is… not well.”

“Do not approach him,” she commanded. “Guard the doors and do not let him leave. Await my arrival.”

The building she pulled up to looked more like a small prison than living quarters -- a mid-story concrete block with narrow windows and a single front door. The glass of the windows was shattered and the wooden door had been splintered from the impact of high caliber rounds.

Talia got out of the car and walked hurriedly, following the assassin guard who had been posted at the door as he led her through the building. They went down a narrow hall and toward the back, and Talia noted how all the rooms had been ransacked. Tables were upturned. Paper and refuse covered the floors. There was a dark smear trailing on the worn wooden floor, as if something had been dragged on the ground, leading toward a set of stairs that led downward into the basement. Talia approached, pausing a moment at the top of the steps, feeling both like she didn’t want to know and _needing_ to know what she would find down there.

As she descended, Talia noted the single shaded bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting a dim flickering glow about the gray cement of the walls. The lamp swayed slightly from some indiscernible breeze, and the movement of the light animated the dark shadows of the room. Shadows like jagged bars were cast behind the broken chairs. Shadows like sharp peaks were projected from the collapsed table. Shadows like distant hills painted behind the crumpled bodies of men. Patterns and pools of dark blood decorated the walls and floor.

Talia paid the dead men no heed. She was only interested in the one person left alive in the room….

Jason sat leaning against the wall in the corner, staring fixedly up at the ceiling. His face was dirty, his skin ghostly pale. Talia rushed to his side, but stopped at arms length away as she took in his appearance.

They had stripped him down to his underwear, and Talia could see his chest and arms… but they weren’t completely bare. Not exactly. They were covered in something dark. Talia thought it was blood at first, but upon closer inspection she saw that it was a distinct pattern, like a tattoo. She realized they were the marks given to him by the All-Caste, except there was something strange about them. Where one would expect the edges of the markings to be clean, they were instead feathered and branching out, like dark veins leading outward across his skin. The markings crept all the way up from his arms -- a dark trail that connected his core to his hands. Whatever had afflicted Jason was spreading, eating away at his flesh and soul like a virulent infection, and it was coming from the All-Blades.

“Has he been like this the whole time?” Talia asked the guard who had followed her into the room.

“Yes my lady,” the guard nodded. “He only responds if we provoke him.”

Talia reached a hand out slowly and touched his shoulder. “Jason,” she called out. “Can you hear me? It's me.”

No response.

“Jason,” she shook him harder, but he continued to stare blankly into space. His eyes were open, but they were vacant and unblinking. Talia knew that look. It was the same look he had when she first found him all those years ago, after he had crawled out of his grave and wandered the streets.

“Jason…,” she tried once more, some desperate emotion leaking into her voice. This had not been part of the plan. She was supposed to have time to figure this out first. Jason was not supposed to have fallen apart so quickly. This was wrong. This wasn't right _at all_ , and some inexplicable anger welled up within her. Not at Jason, but at herself. This shouldn't have happened under her watch.

“No, Jason! Not yet,” Talia pulled back her hand to slap him, hoping that more provocation would bring him back to himself.

It worked. He caught her wrist just before her palm made contact. “Talia?” He blinked and looked around, seemingly bewildered.

“Jason!” Talia let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. She extricated her wrist from his hand and reached out to cup his face. Her hands trembled slightly, and she realized her heart had been racing. She slowed her breathing, forcing herself to appear calm as she spoke her next words. “What do you remember?” she asked.

He furrowed his brow, and then glanced around. His eyes landed on the dead men. “Did I do this?”

Talia followed his gaze. She saw his blue eyes widen as he took in the gory scene. She could feel his breathing begin to quicken as she pressed her hand to his shoulder to keep him from moving. Blood leaked from his nose again. He pushed Talia away and swiped at his face. The blood smeared across his mouth. It kept coming in rivulets that ran down his chin. He tried to stand, and Talia barely managed to keep him seated. He was growing distressed, and Talia knew he could flip into full panic or grow irrationally angry if she didn't keep him under control.

“No, Jason,” Talia said firmly. “I did this.”

He blinked at her. “You did?”

“Yes,” Talia nodded. Lying came easily. She would have cut them down without batting an eye if she had the chance. “They hurt you. I am going to get you somewhere safe.”

“Oh.”

Talia turned to her guard, “Get me a towel. And a blanket.”

When the guard returned with the requested items, she draped the blanket over Jason, and then pressed the towel to his face. She slowly led him up the stairs and back toward the car.

“What of the general?” The guard asked, as soon as Jason was safely stowed in the backseat. “He was among the dead in the basement.”

Interesting. Talia hadn't paid any notice to the identities of the dead men. Her attentions had solely been on Jason. She thought a moment, and then, “Cut off his head and bring it to General Li if he’s still alive. An offering of good will and partnership, courtesy of the League.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * E.M.P mask, Batman Vol. 2 No. 1 -- used by Dick to impersonate the Joker. When he disabled it it had a sort of matrixed framework that covered his face 
>   * For the record, I know nothing about parachuting…, but I tried to watch some youtube videos. lol 
>   * I’m excited because Lobdell is finally doing an All-Caste story! Not everyone’s favorite I know, but I love this part of Jason’s history (clearly, because have you read my stories?). Anyway, I had this all mostly plotted out before the comics started playing out, so not all of this will jive obviously, but hope it still makes sense after whatever plays out in canon 
>   * Also, I think this is going to be 7 chapters total, in case any of you were wondering. 
>   * ALSO ALSO -- Comments and kudos are most welcome! If you like the story so far, let me know. I've gotten some amazing comments and I have to say they are invigorating and motivating and omgitmustbewhatbeingoncrackfeelslikeALKSFJLKDFJSDFA! 
> 



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super thanks to drunkraiinbow on discord for doing a pre-read and sanity check. Sometimes I just get a little insecure :( and I need someone to tell me I'm not crazy (even though I am. haha.)

It turned out General Li survived, much to the League's benefit. He had hidden himself away in some bunker under the waterfront, only re-emerging when Talia's operatives tracked him down to deliver his opponent's severed head. He appeared in public an hour later, declaring victory over the attempted coup. Rhelasia was stabilized again under the long-time dictator's rule.

Talia paid attention insofar as she made sure General Li understood the League's contribution to his ongoing reign. She then accepted his 'generous offer' to use Rhelasian transport and resources as needed. A Russian military stealth jet was ordered for the ready on the morrow, and a physician summoned to her seaside sanctuary to attend to Jason.

It was this latter situation that continued to draw all her focus. Jason had succumbed to unconsciousness soon after she had retrieved him, and remained so even after they arrived at the safehouse. The physician quickly set about taking blood tests, setting up monitors and and providing intravenous fluids. The test results were expedited, and when they came back, they weren't good: elevated liver and kidney markers, signs of systemic inflammatory response, elevated white blood counts, and arrhythmia. Add to that a possible concussion, the constant nosebleeds, the signs of torture and subsequent catatonic episode from just before Talia had rescued him, and not to mention the curse that was silently eating away at his life and soul.

Talia sighed as she stood over Jason's unconscious form. The physician had settled him into the bed where he now rested, hooked up to an IV line to keep him sedated. Talia had sat for several hours already, keeping vigil through the small hours of the night. She knew she should have been resting herself, given they had another long journey ahead in the morning, but worry kept her awake.

It had been a long time since she had done as such, but watching over Jason felt surprisingly natural. She didn't fight the urge to brush a lock of hair back from Jason's forehead, then trailed her fingers down to gently touch his cheek. She noted his skin felt cold and clammy, and he turned his head fitfully even in sleep. Talia pulled a blanket over him, tucking it under his chin to cover the spider-web of darkened veins that spread up his arms and all across the symbols on his chest.

 _Richard was right_ , Talia thought. Jason was in very bad shape. If a resolution couldn’t be found quickly, he was going to die.

The notion felt like a knot that rooted through her gut. She clenched her jaw as she looked again at his medical chart, debating on what she should do. Modern medicine could only do so much if Jason's affliction was metaphysical. Jason had confirmed that Bruce had already brought in some of the brightest minds from the mystical realm, but maybe what Jason needed wasn't the brightest, but the _darkest_. Talia could facilitate that, but she needed more information. She needed to know more about the alleged entity that had cursed him.

Talia brushed her fingers one more time across his furrowed brow and left the room. She made her way to the sanctuary's small office where she logged into her laptop, searching for whatever information she could on the entity Richard had mentioned -- _Ammit._

Hieroglyphs, reliefs, and paintings came up on her screen. She scrolled through various depictions of a hemstitched entity with a serpentine-headed, a leonine body and the rear trunk of hippopotamus -- it closely matched the images Richard had shown her of the creature Jason had taken down. Talia spent the next hour doing a more thorough read-through. She found more images of Ammit, which revealed the entity was known to be more akin to a demon. According to the ancient myths, she was the final executioner in the court of the afterlife, presided over by the Egyptian gods.

She found information on the goddess Artemis had called upon -- Nephthys, associated with funerary rites, death, darkness, and the protection of souls. There was more about the proceedings of a soul's final judgement -- it involved the weighing of one's heart against a feather on a set of scales. The feather represented the goddess of truth, called Ma'at. If the heart, which represented the soul, was lighter or balanced against the feather, then one was admitted into the afterlife. If not, the soul was devoured by the goddess Ammit.

It had Talia's mind wandering back to the cylinder Artemis had given Jason -- she remembered it had been decorated with what looked to be a pattern of feathers, but she'd been too preoccupied with finding Jason to examine it earlier. When they had gotten to their current safehouse, she was engrossed with managing negotiations with General Li, double-checking that the sanctuary's security measures were in place, and then ensuring Jason's medical care was adequate. She had simply left the relic by Jason's bedside, but she would now need to retrieve it to inspect it more closely.

Talia got up to re-enter the other room, only to find the cylinder was gone… along with Jason. The window was open. The curtains billowed with the soft breeze.

Talia rushed forward, her heart feeling like it was seizing in her chest as she pushed aside the curtains to look outside. The safehouse was nestled in the cliffs above the ocean, and in Jason's condition Talia could imagine a drop over the ledge and down into the ocean would be lethal. Her worries were assuaged however, when after a few desperate minutes she spied a silhouette against the first light of dawn, huddled at the lip of one of the bluffs below.  
  
She let out a sigh of relief, and then carefully made her way out the window and down the steep cliffside to find out what had possessed Jason to slip out in such away. She let her footsteps fall purposefully, the noise a small presage to warn him of her approach. As she got closer she saw that he had found clothing from somewhere in the safehouse. He had probably woken and gotten out of bed as soon as Talia had left his room.

There was a slight tensing of his shoulders as he noted the crunch of her footsteps, but fortunately, he didn't get up to flee. He merely continued to gaze silently over the waters below as Talia sat down beside him. He had the cylinder tucked into the space between his chest and his drawn-up knees. He clutched it in his hands, and Talia could see the blackened veins from the curse covering his fingers.

Talia mirrored his position, watching him for any clues as to what was going on in his head. His face was was oddly blank, and it reminded her of a time long ago when they had sat together, just like this, except instead of dawn it was dusk. Talia had told him that Bruce missed him, and it was the only time she had seen Jason visibly react with emotion before she'd thrown him into the pit.

If she mentioned Bruce again now, would Jason react the same? She thought it more likely he would fly into a fit of rage….

Talia attempted to craft her next words, but it was hard when she didn't quite understand Jason's state of mind. Showing any of her own emotion could potentially set him off as well -- anger, worry, or concern could easily be misinterpreted. A neutral facade was the safest bet, because it was usually the easiest for Jason to process. In the end, she settled for, “I thought for a moment that you left.”

He didn't answer immediately, and when he did it was a deflection. “I was _dying_ for a smoke,” he produced a cigarette from somewhere on his person, “but I didn't have a light.”

“This is not the time for jokes, Jason,” Talia chided. Jason was in avoidance mode. He was not in the mood to open up.

“Sure it is. There isn't a more perfect time for death jokes than when I'm dying.” He put on a smirk, but none of the mirth reached his eyes.

Talia could tell he was trying to make her uncomfortable. He was trying to push her away, though his attempts were relatively mild at the moment.

“Where did you even find that?” She plucked the cigarette from his fingers and flicked it over the cliff edge.

“Hey!” Jason actually pouted. “I was going to smoke that!”

“No. You weren't.” Talia didn't laugh. She didn't smile. She didn't even attempt any pretense of humor. She was feeling too on edge. Jason's reappearance had been like a tornado, completely upturning everything in her life in a matter of days. At first she had been irritated and angry, but now she only fought down a pervasive ache in her chest that betrayed her trepidation, because the situation suggested only one outcome. Talia had a feeling that once this whirlwind was over, she was going to be the only one left swirling in the air, with no option but to come crashing down to the devastation that Jason would leave in his wake.

She had not wanted Jason to do this alone, but now she wasn't sure she could do this at all. She looked over at Jason, at the way he stared sullenly at the rising sun, and she couldn't shake the memory of the last time they had sat together like this. He had been just a boy back then. Even though her father  had written him off as nothing but a vacant shell, she had known it wasn't true. Jason had wanted _his_ father back then -- he had missed Bruce -- even if he couldn't vocalize it.

Jason noticed her observation, and turned to meet her gaze. Something flickered across his expression, and he quickly turned away. “Don't look at me like that,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Like you're looking for something that's not there.”

“I don't understand,” Talia replied, puzzled at his reaction.

“ _He_ looked at me that way too. Like he wants to see the kid I was before I died, but he can't bear what he _does_ see.”

Was that what Jason thought? Was that why he had run from Bruce and his family? Did Jason believe that they didn't or couldn't see him for what he was? Did he believe that Bruce didn't like what he saw in Jason?

Talia knew there was some truth to that -- that when Jason had first returned he had made every effort to make their lives miserable, and that was hard for Bruce and the others to forget. On the surface, Jason was a far cry from the spirited boy who had died at the hands of the Joker in that lonely warehouse in Qurac, but to Talia he was very the much the same as he had always been. He was forever broken and forever hurting. He was a boy who withdrew into himself when he couldn't manage the pain, who lashed out in anger when he couldn't express himself, and who reacted with violence when he was afraid. Jason wasn't so very changed at all for the entire time she had known him. That was how Jason had always been with her. It was who he was. Surely Bruce could see that. He _had_ to, right?

“Jason,” she put a hand out to touch his shoulder. “Bruce, he --.”

“No.” Jason cut her off. “I can't,” he shook his head and took in a shaky breath. Talia could feel him trembling, too overwhelmed with emotion that threatened to boil over. He was not in a state of mind where he could fully engage in conversation with her.

“I can't,” he repeated, as he gripped the cylinder he was still holding so hard his knuckles went white. “Talia, I just can't right now.”

She gently wrapped her arm around him, not pushing any further. “Jason…,” she said, unsure of how to continue.

He closed his eyes, and in the light of the rising sun, Talia could see a single tear track down his face.

////////////////////////////////////

He wouldn't let her examine the relic. She hadn't wanted to push it when they had been sitting outside. Jason had seemed too vulnerable, which would have made him too prone to overreacting if he thought for any reason she was threatening to confiscate it.

“What is in the cylinder?” She finally asked, once she managed to pull him back inside the sanctuary to settle Jason at a small dining table. It was early morning now, and Talia put a kettle on to prepare some tea. She had already put a call to servants to prepare a light meal.

“Nothing.” Jason kept it strapped around his chest, with his hand curled around it as if he was holding an American football. Even if Talia wanted to take it, it would have been extremely difficult to wrestle it from his grasp. She regretted not examining it earlier when she had the chance.

“Really?” Talia rebutted, “you are oddly protective of something that contains only _nothing._ ”

“It's symbolic.” Jason shrugged, but didn't loosen his grip. “It contained the entity until it got out. Maybe the Amazon priestesses can do something with it. Artemis thought it would help once we get to Qurac.”

“Perhaps it won't be needed then,” Talia suggested, “if this can be solved by revisiting the All-Caste.”

Jason snorted in disbelief.

The water began to boil, and Talia turned off the stove. She found a decently graded matcha green tea in the cupboard, along with a whisk and some tea bowls. She spooned the proper amount into the bowl and whisked the tea into a foam.

Talia set a bowl of tea before Jason, and he took it, holding it with both his black-streaked hands as if to warm them. “You should get some rest Talia,” he said, “if we're going to make the jump to the Acres of All. When will the jet be ready?”

“This afternoon. I will rest a few hours once you've had something to eat.” Talia sat down across from him, holding her own bowl of tea.

Jason looked back at her, some different kind of pain now reflected in his eyes. “You don't have to do this, Talia.”

“Do what?”

“Try to take care of me,” Jason clarified, his voice was soft as he hunched in on himself, somehow appearing smaller and more boyish than he really was. “You've already done more than enough. You don't have to try and save me too.”

“I know.”

Talia stared at the rising steam from the tea in her bowl. It was still frothy from being whisked, and quite a vibrant green from the matcha powder. It reminded her of the Lazarus pits….

Across from her Jason sniffled, and when she looked up, he was touching his fingertips to his upper lip. His nose was bleeding again.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “I'm gonna go clean up.”

Jason got up from the table, hurrying over to the bathroom as he pinched his nose.

Talia didn't follow after him immediately. She sat a while longer, staring into the swirling green foam of her tea.

////////////////////////////////////

Talia slept only a couple hours before she was up again to make preparations for the flight into the Himalayas. Jason had stayed awake, tapping away at the laptop, looking for indications that his friends had escaped.

There were no sign of Artemis or Bizarro. Jason scrolled and searched through the Gotham news reports, but beyond the final footage of Batman taking them into custody, there was no sign of them. Talia could visibly see his worry and dismay, but she didn't comment. There was nothing they could do short of Jason going after them, and then their sacrifice for his sake would have been for naught. The only comfort was knowing Bruce wouldn't intentionally harm them though, even if he had them imprisoned.

Then it was time to go. General Li had dutifully procured them a jet outfitted with full cloaking and automated controls. It made the journey through the mountains manageable for just the two of them, especially with Jason in his weakened state. The entrance to the Acres of All was a portal disguised on the side of a mountain, and they would have to maneuver during free fall into the hidden portal. Even in peak condition, it was a difficult expedition. Talia set the jet into autopilot as they made ready to bail from the plane.

“Are you ready?” Talia asked as she strapped a sword to her back, and then secured a pack over it.

Jason was doing the same, except he was securing the cylinder to his chest instead of a sword. “Am I ready to dive head first into the side of a mountain? Sure. When am I _not_ ready?”

“Alright then,” Talia said, though she was skeptical. Jason was leaning a little too heavily against the fuselage beside the door. “You go first, as you have a better sense of the portal's location given your training.”

They dove out of the hovering jet into free fall and Jason aimed for a spot in the sheer wall of the mountainside. Talia had already done this before with Jason himself, but she was still a little apprehensive right up until the point she watched Jason disappear into the rock, rippling waves emanated from the entry point in the stone as if he had just gone through water.

Talia followed immediately after. It did indeed feel like suddenly hitting water -- her trajectory slowed, there was a pull and resistance in the opposing direction as everything around her went dark, and then suddenly she was hurtling again toward the ground. She flipped mid-air, aiming to land feet first. Jason preceded her doing the same, but he landed awkwardly and hard. He collapsed onto his hands with a cough, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the stone floor.

“Jason!” Talia helped him up as he pointed to a stone staircase that led up to a platform. They staggered up, and Talia sat him down to lean against an elevated altar. He curled into himself in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, rivulets of blood leaking from his nose and covering his face in more blood. Talia glanced around frantically to try and find any signs of whoever was left of the All-Caste. She hadn't been here since she learned of their decimation.

“How do we call her?” Talia cupped Jason's face in her hands, and noticed the black streaks were now spreading up his neck and almost reaching his chin. “Jason, open your eyes,” Talia shook him, forcing him to look at her. “Essence. Where is she?”

“I'm here,” said a voice behind them, and Talia spun around to see a dark cloud of smoke come together into the form of a woman. Her white corded hair flowed out in waves, and her pale features were marked with strang jagged lines, splashed with subtle patterns of color across her eyes and forehead. Essence.

She shot forward and grabbed Jason's wrist, pushing his sleeve up to expose the web of infection that ran up his arm. Essence took a sharp intake of breath -- shock and concern spread across her face. She grabbed Jason by the chin, pushing his face up to look at the streaks on his neck. Then she was practically tearing open his clothes, pulling open his shirt to look at the the black infection that stained his chest like large feathering ink blots.

“What is this?” she demanded.

Jason opened his mouth to responded, but ended up only spluttering blood as he was seized in a coughing fit.

Essence shot Talia an accusing look, “What have you done?”

“It is some sort of curse,” Talia explained, making a conscious effort not to be incensed at what Essence was implying. It was more important to focus on helping Jason. “It is eating away at him through the All-Blades. Can you help?”

“I'm not sure,” Essence said as she lifted one of Jason's hands in her own. He tried to pull away, but she held firm and hovered her palm over his. The dark streaks that covered his hand seemed to well together in his palm. Essence closed her hand over it, and then _pulled._

“Gah!” Jason cried out in pain.

He was soon joined by an inhuman shrieking as Talia was suddenly thrown backwards. A burst of red flame erupted outwards, swirling several feet in the air before settling back to the ground. It solidified into a large, monstrous beast with a crocodile-like head, a furred torso, and stocky back end -- the entity, _Ammit_.

It lunged toward them, and Essence immediately intercepted, phasing into a cloud of dark smoke as she attempted to lead it away. Talia made to pull Jason out of it's path, only to realize he was unconscious. He wasn't breathing. No pulse.

“Damn!” Talia cursed as she laid Jason down. She tilted his head back and pinched his nose, sealing her lips over his to breath air into his lungs, then immediately began chest compressions. “Don't you dare, Jason! Don't you dare die on me!”

She ventilated him with another breath, but she knew it was unlikely this would fully resuscitate his heart.

“Essence!” Talia called out, even as she watched Essence dodge and curl around the snapping of Ammit's jagged teeth. “His heart! Can you restart his heart?”

Essence spun through the air, amassing a vortex of black smoke into a blast that forced the monstrous entity crashing backwards through a stone column. With the beast momentarily stun, Essence evaporated into the air, only to appear by Jason's side not a second later.

“Distract the creature,” Essence said. “I'll revive him.”

Talia hesitated only a split-second, not wanting to leave Jason's side, but without someone to play interference, the beast would soon be upon them. It was already slowing rolling to its feet, shaking the dust and stone off of it's hairy mane in a spray of debris. Talia unsheathed her sword and got up to engage, only to stumble over something that rolled under her feet. It was the cylinder -- Essence had dislodged it from Jason's possession when she had stripped his shirt.

Talia grabbed it, unsure of whether it would help, but she didn't have time to think it through. The monster was already advancing, and Talia sprinted a wide arc to the side, raising the cylinder in the air to get it's attention.

“Over here!” She yelled, waving it in the air, but the beast paid no heed. It was turning back toward where Essence was still trying to revive Jason as he lay prone on the ground. The relic wasn’t enough to gain it's attention, but perhaps the canister needed to be opened?

Talia twisted the end cap, the rusted metal resisting.  She gripped it harder, chips of oxidized metal flaking off until it came off with a pop. At first she thought it was empty. There was no explosive blast or rush of magical energy that immediately came out. She reached her hand in, felt something long and thin surrounded by soft fine fibers. Talia pulled it out, and it was… an enormous feather?

The feather had been curled inside the cylinder, and now that it was unfurled, it looked like an ostrich plume. Talia could tell it used to be white, but it was soiled and stained, with several sections matted about the shaft. She was about to discard the plume, dismissing it as useless, when the creature immediately turned and fixated on it. It's vertically slitted eyes gleamed with yellow light.

In her hand, the feather began to hum with some unseen energy, and now that she could feel it reacting, she knew it was not the useless curio she had first thought. There was an unknown magic about it, for what purpose Talia knew not, but the beast was now advancing at her, a guttural snarl sounding from it's throat.

Then she heard a strange voice, both like a low hissing and yet somehow distinctly female -- _“Foolish mortal…. You hold your own judgement in your hands….”_

It pounced forward, claws extended and jaws open. Talia stuffed the feather back into the cylinder just in time to roll out the way, barely evading its snapping teeth, clamping together so hard she felt a whoosh of air at her back. She sprung onto her feet just in time to bring her sword up to counter a swipe of its claws. There was a clang, her sword bouncing off it's paw as if it were made of stone, then before she could react, the beast was upon her. It knocked her down with the rebound of it's paw, bringing it back to tear her apart with its claws, when suddenly in a blur of wispy smoke and flame, a newly revived Jason, along with Essence, stood between Talia and the beast.

Together they drove the creature backwards, Essence with a bolt of her dark power, Jason with the fiery All-Blades. Essence encircled it with dark mist, restraining it long enough for Jason to stab it through the gullet. It screeched in pain, and then burst into red flames, engulfing _both_ Jason and itself.

There was cacophony of screams -- the beast roaring in blood curdling anger, Jason emitting a soul-shattering cry of pain, Essence calling out to Jason in fear as she tried to approach the inferno that surrounded him, and Talia herself shouting in horror as she watched Jason collapse to the ground.

And then all at once, suddenly the flames were gone.

Talia rushed to Jason's side just as Essence reached him first. She could see the smoldering smoke rising from his blackened clothing as Essence rolled him onto his back. However, as soon as she knelt beside him, Talia was shocked to see that he wasn't burned. The black splotches of the curse still covered his skin, but he looked surprisingly unharmed for having been covered in flames.

“Jason?” Talia brushed her hand across his cheek. His skin felt hot.

Jason blinked slowly. “I'm… fine,” he gasped out. A rush of relief washed over Talia as she moved to help him sit up.

“Jason…,” it was Essence this time, but there was an edge alarm in her tone. “The blades…,” she pointed down at Jason's hands.

Both Talia and Jason followed her gaze. He was still clutching the hilt of the All-Blades in either hand. He raised the left blade first -- Talia could see most of the blade had corroded away. Barely a third of the blade was still intact, and what was left of the oxidized metal was streaked with a burnt rust.

Jason raised his other hand, still clutching the hilt, but the rest of the blade was gone. The rest had completely shattered. There was nothing left but the brittle shards of rusted metal on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Notes:
> 
>   * This fic is donezo! In case anyone wanted to know. I just need to edit and post the rest of it. Soon! 
>   * Also, I need ideas for a dcu mini bang fic… if anyone has any ideas. Can't guarantee I'll use it, but feel free to send me prompts/ideas :) 
> 



	6. Chapter 6

“Can you fix this?” Talia demanded, turning to Essence, but the other shook her head.

“You just saw the result of my attempt to remove the curse,” she said. Essence drew Jason's hand into her own as he dissipated what was left of the blades. She traced her fingers across his palm, inspecting the black veining more closely. “I need to study it to understand the source of this darkness.”

“We're running out of time,” Talia reluctantly admitted. “It doesn’t look like the blades will last much longer.”

“They won’t,” Essence agreed. “At this rate, the remaining blade won’t last more than a day.”

“We have to get to Qurac,” Jason was already pulling himself up to stand. As he did so, he reached to the side for the discarded cylinder, but Talia snatched it away first.

“What is this?” She held it just out of his reach, and in his weakened state, he made no move to fight for it.

“You saw what it was,” he said curtly. He teetered slightly on his feet, clearly exhausted, but he had his jaw clenched and his head tilted up defensively.

She recognized that look. Jason was getting ready to dig his heels in out of sheer stubbornness. She had to call him out and drive him toward telling her the truth, without driving him away at the same time. She would have to offer up something first, or things would go the same way with her as they had with Bruce.

Talia took a slow breath, relaxing her posture to appear less aggressive. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself feel the anger of being deceived, and the frustration of being kept in the dark. Then she let herself feel what was underneath that -- she felt a gut wrenching worry and a sick feeling deep in her heart that she was going to watch Jason die, and that it would be _her fault_ for letting it happen. It felt like a visceral pain in the core of her body, and she held onto that feeling, letting some of it come to the surface. She wanted Jason to see her emotion as she spoke her next words.

“That creature said something as I held the feather -- she said that I hold my own judgement in my hands.” Talia paused to open her eyes and bore her gaze into Jason. “I know the story, and I suspect you do too. The Egyptians believed that in the afterlife, one’s worth is judged by the weight of their heart against a feather. _This_ feather.” She held up the cylinder. “You were willing to accept that judgement, weren’t you? If that meant returning Ammit to her proper place.”

Jason didn’t say anything. He just looked away. Beside him, Essence was frowning severely. There was a dark turbulence growing in the depths of her black eyes.

“You were willing to accept your fate,” Talia stated, “but Bruce wasn’t.”

The pieces were falling into place as she said it aloud -- the expectation of judgement illustrated the fundamental disagreement between Jason and Bruce. The influence of the pit had caused Jason to act erratically for a time, but he had always been guided by a sense of justice even as he left a trail of bodies in his wake. He had always believed that every life he took was to _right a wrong_.

For Bruce on the other hand, killing of any sort violated the most sacred of his principles, which meant that if it came to Jason facing judgement, under those principles he would be damned. At the same time, Talia knew Bruce still cared deeply for Jason. He would try everything to save his son, but he wouldn’t risk his death if it also meant the damnation of his soul.

Maybe Jason believed his fate was inevitable. Maybe he was simply willing to accept the risk that Bruce wasn’t, but she _knew_ Jason. Talia understood him better than he understood himself, and she knew that Jason perceived Bruce’s refusal to allow his current path as a value judgement against his intrinsic worth. Whether his perceptions were accurate was debatable, but it came down to the fact that Jason didn’t think his father believed in him, and that hurt far more than accepting the prospect of imminent destruction.

That was why Jason ran. As much as Jason tried to deny it, some part of him still looked to Bruce for approval. In the end Jason would rather himself judged unworthy by some unknown gods, than to have to continue to face the eternal disappointment of his own father.

She didn’t need Jason to confirm it, Talia could tell by the look in his eye.

She felt a spike of her own indignation. Bruce was _not_ always right. His way was _not_ the only way, but his unwavering principles didn’t allow him any flexibility. Artemis seemed to have believed in Jason too, otherwise she would not have given him the cylinder. In this Talia agreed, but she did _not_ concede to a solution that demanded Jason’s sacrifice.

However, Jason was out of time, and Talia couldn’t come up with any other options at the moment but to go to Qurac. Furthermore, Talia wasn't sure what awaited them there. She couldn’t simply trust Artemis at her word. For all Talia knew, they would be slaughtered the moment they stepped foot in Bana-Mighdall.

Talia stepped toward Jason, offering the cylinder back to him as a concession. After a pause he took it and slung the strap over his head and shoulder. Talia reached out to help him tighten the strap, then put a hand to his chest. She gentled her voice, “Jason, if there’s anything else that might help your situation, you must tell me before it's too late.”

“It's already too late." He covered Talia's hand with his own and brought it away, but he didn't let go immediately. "It was too late even before I came to find you." He held on a moment longer, his grip firm. “Promise me, if I somehow survive, but I lose my mind again -- if I go back to the way I was before the pit -- promise me you'll kill me.”

Something knotted in her chest, a gnarled ugly thing that snaked up and constricted her throat, and Talia couldn’t find any words to respond.

Essence did however. “This is madness!” she cried in outrage. She yanked Talia's hand out of Jason's grasp and fixed the black hollows of her eyes on him. “We have yet to know the nature of this darkness that has overtaken you. We cannot throw fate to the whims of an unknown power!”

Jason just shook his head, “You said yourself the blades won’t last more than a day. I felt something inside me start to decay the minute I woke up after this thing settled inside me. I don't know for certain what's going to happen, but I know when death is hovering over my shoulder.”

“But--,” Essence attempted to interject, but Jason put up a hand and cut her off.

“I'm not wasting what's left of my life hoping and praying for someone to come save me. We all know how well that went for me the first time. I'm not doing that again. I want to do this _my_ way. Death can't come knocking when I've already opened the door and went looking for her first. I accept the risk. Let what will be, be.”

Jason turned back to Talia with a look she had never seen on him before. The normal intensity of his gaze was subdued as if some inner fire had already died.

“Talia,” he said, “you're the only one who knew me after I crawled out of my grave. You knew what I was before _and_ after the Pit. I can't go through that again. Promise me you'll end it if it comes to that. You're the only one who understands.”

Talia did understand. If she had to choose between death and living her life as a shell of who she once was, she would choose death. She also knew what the Pit did to people. She knew what it had done to Jason. The first time she threw him in the Pit, she feared she had created a monster. She feared what it would do to him a second time, and she suspected Jason did too.

“If it comes to that, yes,” Talia reluctantly agreed. “I'll do it.”

“I won't accept this!” Essence drew her sword, though she seemed unsure of who to fight as she looked back and forth between Talia and Jason. She finally settled on Jason. “You came to me for help, and after everything you think I'll simply allow her to kill you?”

“She probably won't get the chance,” Jason batted away her sword. “The All-Caste -- your mother Ducra, and _you_ \-- taught me to find and accept the darkness within. This is what that looks like. Don't fight me on this.”

A frustrated huff and a swirl of black smoke was Essence's response before she whirled on Talia. “You! What did you do to him to convince him of this foolishness?”

“She didn't do anything,” Jason moved to step between them, but he stumbled and fell to the ground. He landed on his hands and knees before Talia could catch him, coughing and spitting blood on the pale stone underneath. When Jason looked up, blood leaked not just from his mouth and nose, but from his eyes.

He struggled to push himself up, shrugging off both Talia's and Essence's attempts to help him. “I need to… get to Qurac,” he gasped between raling breaths.

“If you leave here, you will be dead by the next dawn.” Essence knelt by him and gripped his shoulders. Worry creased her normally stoic features.

“If he stays here, he will _still_ be dead at dawn,” another voice interrupted from behind.

It was an apparition, nearly solid and fully formed if not for a wisp of blue translucence. Talia recognized the diminutive hunched-over shape, the craggy gray hair, and the grizzled features with deep-grooved wrinkles -- “Ducra!” Talia exclaimed.

“You old bag,” Jason remarked fondly, even as blood bubbled at the corners of his mouth. “You're still kicking around? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“As are you, insolent pup! I see not much has changed.” The old woman moved closer to peer down at Jason with her shrewd eyes, and then turned to Essence. “Let them go. His fate is out of our hands.”

“No, Mother!” Essence retorted, but Ducra shushed her.

“There is nothing we can do,” the old woman shook her head. “This is not a curse. The _Ennead_ have made a _request_.” She turned to Talia, “take him and go, while you still can.”

Talia nodded and Jason let her take his arm. “Come then. We don't have much time.”

She helped him limp slowly away. Essence didn't budge, she stared after them, conflicted.

“Can you make it back to the jet?” Talia asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Except he couldn't. He collapsed again after a few steps. It was only then that Essence stepped in, carrying him the rest of the way back to the jet. Ducra held her daughter back as Talia strapped Jason in. She then took the pilot’s seat and fired the engines, setting a course to the heart of Qurac.

Jason stared out the window as the white peaks of the Himalayas disappeared into the distance. He closed his eyes as the sun dipped into the horizon before them, casting a final blaze of golden light across the stratus of the sky, before it sank past the curve of the earth and into darkness.

////////////////////////////////////

Nightfall had fully set in by the time Talia approached Quraci airspace. Nothing about this journey had been easy, and with Jason, things rarely went as expected. It came as little surprise when in the darkness, things began to grow amiss yet again. The airstream was becoming erratic, and the storm warnings on the jet control panel were flashing red. Wind speed indicators reached over two hundred miles per hour not far ahead. Dust and debris began to ping against the exterior of the jet, which was nearly unheard of at the altitude they were flying. Talia looked up from the controls, squinting out into the darkness of the cockpit into the night. The stars were completely obscured. She couldn’t see anything except an expanse of enveloping black.

The jet rattled with turbulence. More debris pelted against the windows. More pinging against the metal fuselage that increased in frequency and intensity, so much that it seemed more like they were flying through a spray of particulate. A horrible grinding sound began within one of the engines. Talia cursed as she realized what was happening -- the plane was being blasted by _sand_. The mystical sandstorm that had once protected Bana-Mighdall had somehow been restored.

The engines sputtered, choking with grit, and Talia had no choice but to descend. There was no way to fly through this. The plane rocked and shuddered again, and suddenly the engines cut out. There was brief moment where the plane continued to coast, before the g-forces set in and the plane began to nose dive.

“Jason!” Talia looked over at him in the co-pilot’s seat beside her. He had passed out completely soon after they had departed. “Jason, can you hear me? Jason!”

He jolted awake as Talia began emergency procedures, flipping the ignition switches to try and restart the engine. Jason grabbed the secondary controls and together they tried to wrangle the plane into a slow descent. It was to no avail. The high speed winds sent them into a spiral.

“Hang on!” Jason shouted over the roar of wind and rattling metal as he took over primary controls. Talia was an experienced pilot, but Jason seemed to have more experience _crashing planes_. He closed the throttle and wrenched the yoke in an attempt to level the wings, and then began to ease out of the dive.

They almost made it, but they had lost too much altitude too quickly for Jason to manage a controlled landing. The jet skidded over the top of a sand dune, the force of the impact nearly blacked Talia out. The collision sent them tumbling over the sand in a whirl of screeching metal until finally they came to a stop.

Talia let out an involuntary groan as she tried to blink through the hazy of blinking lights on the control panel. “Jason?” She practically had to shout over the din of the sandstorm outside.

No response. Her senses started returning as she reached to unstrap herself. “Jason?” she repeated, looking over at the copilots seat. She could make out a slumped form in the darkness. The pungent oily smell of fuel invaded her nostrils. They needed to get away from the plane. If any sparks ignited, the plane would be quickly engulfed in fire.

Talia unbuckled herself from the safety harness and scrambled over to Jason, pulling at the fasteners to free him. She struggled for a moment -- the strap from the cylinder that contained the feather was tangled in the harness, but she finally managed to extricate the knot. She left the cylinder strapped against Jason's chest as she dragged him from the jet and out through the torn metal of the fuselage.

The gusts outside nearly knocked Talia to her knees as she tried to find purchase in the loose sand. The scrape of of it stung as the wind blasted the grains against her skin.

“Jason!” Talia tried to rouse him. She couldn’t carry him through the sandstorm like this. She could barely see through the scouring wind, let alone the darkness. There was no way she’d be able to find Bana-Mighdall. Talia trudged forward, dragging Jason as best she could, trying to find any kind of shelter from the brutal skin-stripping wind.

Then, in the darkness there was a light. Several lights, at least a dozen. It was a cluster of lanterns coming toward them, and Talia was immediately wary. She braced herself over Jason’s fallen form, preparing to fight in case they were attacked. There were shapes approaching in tandem with the lights, dark and amorphous forms that eventually coalesced as they came closer. It was a group of women.

No. They were _Amazons_ , wearing cloaks over their armored bodices and battle gear.

“Grab him,” one of them uttered, and another Amazon suddenly shoved Talia away and made to grab Jason.

Talia struggled to push back, but she had no weapons, and she was still disoriented from the crash. The Amazon dragged Jason from her grasp and slung his unconscious form over her shoulder. The group began to move away.

“Wait!” Talia followed. “Where are you taking him? What do you know?” The Amazons ignored her, but made no move to stop her as she trudged through the sand behind them.

It felt like hours, Talia lost track of time as she fought to keep up amidst the continued onslaught of the sand-drenched winds, but eventually the storm began to die down, and they made it into a clearing. It was still dark, though Talia could make out small dots of lights adorning structures all around. The Amazons continued, quickening their pace toward one of the larger structures up ahead.

As they got closer, Talia could see large carved stone figures, probably several stories tall as she crossed the pylons into the hypostyle. There were enormous carved figures with various headdresses, some with animal heads -- cats, dogs, perhaps even lions and serpents…. Torches lined the supporting columns as they made their way toward the entrance. Elaborately painted Egyptian reliefs decorated the facade. The colors were brilliant even in the dim light -- red ochre and vivid malachite green, and more in azure blue and bright realgar, but Talia didn’t have time to marvel at their intricacies. She barely made it through as the Amazons hurried into the darkened interior, swinging the heavy iron doors shut behind them.

They crossed the candlelit hall to the innermost chamber where there was what looked like a large flat altar. It was long and rectangular, carved with neat columns of hieroglyphs in the stone. The Amazon’s gathered around it. The one who had carried Jason into the hall now passed him to another, dressed in draped linen with her long dark hair tied in a braid. Talia surmised she was what stood for a priestess amongst the tribe -- she took Jason, cradled him in her arms, and knelt down.

“Nephthys,” the priestess said aloud with head bowed, “Oh Divine Goddess, our _Lady of the House_ , we have brought the boy as you have commanded.”

She rose again, and four other Amazons stepped forward toward the altar. They each grabbed a corner and _lifted._ There was a sound of grating stone as they moved the heavy slab that laid atop. It was then that Talia realized that it wasn't an altar as she had originally thought. The base was much wider than needed strictly for stability… it was in fact a stone coffin -- a sarcophagus.

“No!” Talia rushed forward as she saw what they were going to do. The Amazon priestess, the one in the draped linen, stood up and lifted Jason over the edge of the sarcophagus, and then laid him inside. Before Talia could reach them the four others replaced the stone slab, fitting it carefully to seal the coffin shut.

Jason had been enclosed in the tomb.

“Open it!” Talia demanded. “How dare you! He's still alive! Open it, now!”

“May the Goddess protect his soul,” the priestess replied solemnly, and then began to back away. The others followed as she headed back toward the door. The Amazons were making their exit.

“No! We came to you for help! You'll pay for this!” Talia ran after them. It had taken four of them to move the slab. She needed to somehow force four of them to come back.

Talia sprinted past them and cut them off before they reached the door. She lashed out at the priestess, aiming a strike at her throat, but she ducked out of the way. Another Amazon stepped in and intervened, grabbing Talia by the arm and flipping her onto her back.

The impact knocked the wind out of her. Talia was still too weakened from the crash, too exhausted from their travels and too desperate. It made her sloppy. It made her slow. It took her a few seconds to get back on her feet.

She ran after the Amazons, but they were already out the entrance. They slammed the heavy iron doors shut behind them with a resounding thud. Talia heard something grinding against stone and metal -- something heavy was being slid against the door. They had barricaded entrance shut.

Talia was trapped. They had left her alone with Jason in the tomb.

“No! You'll pay for this!” Talia frantically pounded on the door. “When I get out of here, I'll kill every last one of you,” she shouted, but she knew the Amazons had already left.

Talia ran back to the sarcophagus to push at the slab with all her might, but it didn't budge. She wasn't strong enough. She looked around to try and find something she could use as a lever, grabbing a nearby candelabra and wedging the edge under the lid as much as she could, but the seam was too tight and the metal too thick.

“Jason!” Talia slammed her fist against the carved slab. “Jason…,” she began to sob as she collapsed to her knees by the sarcophagus. Tears ran down her cheeks. How could she have let this happen? Jason needed her, and she was the one he had trusted the most in the end. How could she have failed him? How could she have not have found a way around this? This was not what she wanted. When she had agreed to help Jason, she had wanted to help him avoid his doom….

“Talia Al Ghul. The _Daughter of the Demon_ ,” an eerie hollow voice suddenly echoed throughout the room. The candles flared and then went out. The room was cast into darkness.

“Who's there?” Talia spun around, peering out into the surround shadows.

There was a sliver of light and a silhouette appeared. It towered over Talia, and in the faint glow that emanated from behind it, Talia could make out the general shape of a gray shrouded figure. It wore a tall headdress topped with some kind of semicircular shape, but no features.

“You know my name.” Talia didn’t phrase it as a question. She stood to face the deity, squaring her stance even though she had to look up into its obscured countenance. “I also know yours. You are _Nephthys_.”

It wasn’t a guess. Talia had done her research. She knew -- this was the goddess associated with death and darkness. The Amazon priestess had invoked her protection earlier for Jason’s soul, and Artemis had also claimed the goddess would hear the Shim’Tar’s prayer.

“Goddess, will you help me?” Talia's voice didn't come out as steady as she had hoped. She was too overwrought with emotion to fully mask her desperation. The supplication felt unfamiliar, but Talia bowed her head as a sign of deference and respect. She gestured back at the sarcophagus where Jason lay. “Please, will you help _him_?”

“He has yet to complete his journey" the goddess’ voice boomed. “Come, ‘ _Daughter_.’ You were raised in the darkness. You are at one with my ways. Perhaps you may yet have a part to play.” She extended a hand, and a green luminosity began to swirl around her withered fingers.

Talia paused only to take a breath, and then took the goddess’ hand. It felt suddenly like sinking into dark waters. Her vision blurred, and Talia felt herself being pulled away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * So based on Rebirth RHATO, my interpretation is that Bana-Mighdall is actually inside the boundaries of the fictional country of Qurac, and Qurac is located somewhere on the African continent near the Horn of Africa. It's not quite the Egyptian empire, but I think that’s where DC kinda sorta placed it… so that’s my story for now! 
>   * Also, it appeared that much of Bana-Mighdall was magically restored with Akila’s resurrection in RHATO vol. 2, #10 
>   * The Ennead refer to group of nine deities in Egyptian mythology worshiped at Heliopolis: the sun god Atum; his children Shu and Tefnut; their children Geb and Nut; and their children Osiris, Isis, Seth, and Nephthys. (Thank you Wikipedia for that description) 
>   * Note, I have no idea how to fly a plane… if you do, sorry if I got the details wrong! 
>   * Next Chapter: Talia traverses into the “Upside Down.” 
> 



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I'm taking quite a lot of creative license here, so depictions in this final chapter are not meant to be a true representation of ancient Egyptian religion/mythology. I am not at all any sort of expert, but if you're interested in the subject I spent some time looking up what I could find on the old funerary texts such as the Amduat, the Coffin Texts, and the Book of the Dead.
> 
> Also, thanks again to @drunkraiinbow for the preread!

The first thing she noticed was the crunch of rocks and gravel under her soles -- pale, jagged pebbles that almost glowed against the monochromatic half-light of the gray sky. Talia was standing at the base of a tall shadowed mountain, but even in the twilight she could tell the landscape was sparse and barren. Everything was deathly silent save for the sound of her own movements. She could almost hear the beating of her own heart.

Talia turned, trying to get her bearings as she shook off the disorienting feeling that she'd just been dragged through something viscous -- as if she had just emerged from being underwater. Her head began to clear, her memories returning, and the last thing she recalled was being trapped in a temple. Jason had been entombed alive….

“Jason!” She looked around, searching for any sign of him, but there was none. Talia remembered now -- she had taken the goddess’ hand. She scanned her surroundings again, looking for any sign of the mysterious deity, and spotted a shadowy cloaked figure moving up the slope of the mountain.

Talia ran to catch up, scrambling over loose rock and stone that gave way beneath her feet. More than once she caught herself with her hands as she struggled to find footing, the sharp pebbles digging into the palms of her hands. Eventually Talia caught up to the goddess as she entered a dark cavern in the side of the mountain.

“Where are we? Where is Jason?” Talia demanded as they began to descend down a dark passageway. It was all Talia could do but to follow the subtle glow that wafted about the goddess. She didn't appear fully material -- Talia could almost see _through_ her as the light shifted in waves throughout the goddess’ form. It was like looking at the pale light of a moving aurora in a darkened sky.

Nephthys tilted her head back toward Talia. Her face was still in shadow, and any discernible features were further obscured by long white hair. “We are in the _Duat_.” Her voice was like a dissonant chord, ringing with an unsettling quality that Talia couldn’t quite describe. “This is the underworld,” she continued, “where we will travel the secret paths to reach him. Now hush child, and follow, lest you draw attention to yourself.”

Talia bit back a retort. It wouldn’t serve for her to issue a challenge in this instance. This was an unfamiliar realm, an unknown power, and Jason was nowhere to be found. “Is he alive at least?” Talia dared one more question.

“For now,” the goddess nodded. “Now quiet.”

They continued downward, deeper into the earth of the strange underworld, until it opened out onto the edge of an endless underground lake. It was so large Talia couldn’t see any other shore. She assumed they were still underground, but Talia couldn’t discern any roof to the cavern.  The waters of the lake were completely still, reflecting the infinite darkness that surrounded them.

“The Waters of Ra,” Nephthys said quietly, and gestured toward a long boat with long curved posts decorating each end. It had no sails, but rather several rows of oars. Nephthys indicated for Talia to get in toward the the bow. The goddess draped a rough cloak over Talia as she crouched down, hiding her from view.

The boat began to move. Silvery shapes appeared -- ghostly figures that populated the length of the hull. They shimmered in and out of Talia’s vision, translucent, much like Nephthys appeared. The ghostly oarsmen rowed them toward the center of the lake, where they were joined by others in a slow moving flotilla. The other boats were similarly populated, headed by what Talia presumed were other gods. Some looked mostly human and some had animal heads with curved beaks and pointed snouts, though Talia could only see the general outline of their shadowy shapes. They too were translucent, fading in and out as Talia watched.

“Why do they lack substance?” Talia whispered to Nephthys. “Is it for lack of power?”

“The nature of this realm draws from the subconscious. It draws from belief,” Nephthys replied cryptically. “We have power enough, but this is not your journey. We are not your gods. Remember this.”

The goddess turned away, her disinclination to explain any further clear, and Talia settled to observe the others of the flotilla for any clues. One nearby boat was headed by an entity with a dog-like head, with long pointed ears and snout. He appeared male, judging by its build. Talia almost couldn’t see him -- his skin was completely black and blended into the landscape, and he held some sort of long spear in one hand. His other hand held something she recognized. It was a long, decorated cylinder with a nylon strap -- the same that Artemis had given Jason, the one that contained the feather!

Talia leaned outward, pushing back her cloak to try and get a better view. There was a familiar form lying unconscious near the bow of the boat -- Jason.

Talia nearly shouted his name, but Nephthys pushed her back into a crouch. “Not yet,” she said. “He is still host to the _Devourer of Souls_. Only Ma’at -- she who rules Truth -- can restore Ammit to order.”

Sure enough, Talia could still see the black web of the curse running up Jason’s neck. It now covered half the side of his face, standing in stark contrast to the ghastly paleness of his skin. He stirred, and Talia could see the labored rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to breath. Jason was failing… but alive.

At least she hoped. She was a little unsure given they were in what Nephthys claimed was the underworld. It was possible they were _both_ dead for all Talia really knew, but instinct told her that wasn't the case. Unlike the spectres, Jason and Talia both appeared solid in this realm. They were alive, but for Jason, perhaps not for long.

The situation was still dire, and Talia needed to come up with a plan to get them both out. If she tried to extricate him now however, he would be no better off -- Jason would still be near death with no solution to remove the entity that was destroying him.

Nephthys seemed to take note of her unease, and said, “Anubis, the one of jackals, protects him for now.” She nodded toward the dog-headed god.

It gave Talia little comfort, but she had no choice but to take her chances that Nephthys was as benevolent as Artemis had believed. She was not one to put faith in anything she couldn't control however, so she would have to be ready should an opportunity present itself.

Talia resigned to wait. She counted out at least an hour as they passed through the dark waters. They floated past several ruins of what looked like enormous gates, and occasionally Talia could hear Nephthys murmuring veiled phrases -- “Across that ‘Which hides the towing,” she said, and “I greet you, ‘She who is great in power….’”  Talia didn’t quite understand what it meant, but it seemed to be part of some ritual.

Finally, after another long stretch, the lake began to narrow. Talia could make out sandy shores in the dim light, and there was a vast desert that surrounded them on either side.

“The desert of Rosetau,” Nephthys quietly proclaimed, as the flotilla of boats began to move single file down a narrow channel. The boat with Jason moved ahead, and Talia lost sight of him as Nephthys maneuvered their boat to trail last.

Soon, they approached some kind of structure built along the water -- a raised stone temple with a covered dais. There was a throne in the center, where another spectred figured sat. More surrounded, blending in and out of the shadows. The various boats moored on the shore, and Talia watched as several yards away, the jackal-headed god took Jason into his arms and carried him toward the temple.

Nephthys stepped out of the boat, but she held Talia back. “Wait here,” she said in a hushed voice, “until Ammit has been restored.”

“What then?” Talia asked.

“You will know,” was her only reply. Nephthys turned away to walk up the shore toward the dais. As she approached the platform she passed a thick poll of rusted metal. It was as tall as the goddess herself, and atop was a perpendicular beam from which hung two flat pans on either end -- it was a large balance scale. Beside it stood another veiled deity, female judging by the shape, but what stood out was the rows of long spines that lined the underside of her arms. They almost looked liked stripped-down feathers… it was hard to tell, as she, much like the other gods, seemed to phase in and out like ghosts.

Anubis, the jackal-headed god, deposited Jason at the spined goddess’ feet, then handed over Jason's cylinder. She opened it, reaching her hand in to extract the large feather. She stood still, holding it in the open palms of both her hands.

The feather began to glow brighter and brighter until in a flash the scene around them changed. Where once the deities had ghosted in dim twilight, they were now solid, illuminated with a warm yellow glow. The dais lit up, and various decorated figures in colorful headdresses could be seen. There sat a god with green skin and a tall crown upon the throne, two women with dark hair stood behind him, along with various animal-headed gods -- birds and cats and snakes and dogs -- lined to the sides. Up a ways from the channel where the boats had come from, the water suddenly ignited into a lake of fire. The underworld had suddenly become real and vibrant and _solid_.

The goddess with the spines was now transformed, bearing a full span of pristinely white feathered wings. She was the goddess represented by the white feather, Talia concluded. The same Nephthys had spoken of as the only one who could set things right with Jason -- Ma'at, the goddess of Truth.

She marched forward and pulled Jason up onto his knees. He was barely conscious, blinking blearily as he tried to stay upright. She gripped him by the shoulder to steady him, pulling up his shirt to note the network or dark streaks that completely covered his torso, then suddenly plunged her hand into his chest.

He screamed, but before Talia could react, Ma'at yanked her hand back out. She clutched something -- a swirling mass of cloudy black and glowing red -- it looked like a beating heart, but there was no blood.

Jason gasped and sputtered, prostrate on the sand,  but, still alive. The dark streaks were suddenly gone from what Talia could see of his face. He stared up in shock as the goddess then put both her hands upon his heart to begin pulling it apart. Her frame was tense, the feathers of her wings quivering as she seemingly struggled to separate the black mass from the heart. The darkness swirled and collected in her left hand, the pulsing heart remained in her right as she slowly brought the elements apart.

_Shhhhrrrrrrk!_

There was a sound like something tearing and snapping, and the black cloud in Ma'at's hand erupted into flames. She threw the ball of fire to the ground as it grew larger and larger, taking on what was now a familiar shape and form. It was Ammit, spewing furls of hot fire as it shrieked and roared. She reared back as if about to lunge, but Ma'at shot forward to tap her fingers against the demon's snout.

The flames quickly dispersed. Ammit stopped short and the great beast stood plainly -- serpent head, furred cat-like torso, and the thick-hided rump -- she bowed her head before Ma'at, cowed.

Ma'at then turned back to Anubis and handed him a renewed feather, a bright white plume that he then placed into one of the pans of the nearby scale. The balance beam tilted, dropping the pan toward the ground with its weight. Next, she handed Anubis the glowing heart. He placed it on the other pan, and the scale began to slowly seesaw.

Anubis turned to Jason, “Do you have your confession?”

“Confession?” he returned, confused, scrambling up onto his hands and knees. He appeared mostly whole… there was no gaping hole in his chest as Talia had feared when Ma'at had ripped his soul out.

A bird-headed god with a long narrow beak stepped forward to hand Jason a scroll. “The standard confession,” it said.

Jason, still huddled on the ground, took it despite his expression betraying his distress. “I have not committed robbery with violence?” he read aloud. “I have not stolen _grain_? I have not slain men and women?” He threw the paper aside. “Fuck this! I'm not reading some stupid standard confession. I've killed out of anger and I've killed because I thought it was the right thing to do. I'm not proud of all the shitty things I've done, but I admit it. I admit all of it!”

Ma'at frowned. The scale continued to teeter back and forth. Talia recalled what she knew of the ancient myths -- the scales exemplified the final judgement. If the soul, represented by the heart, outweighed the feather, the soul would be damned to be consumed by Ammit. Jason himself wasn't helping his own case either. He was mouthy and rebellious to a fault, and with his blunt admission, Talia could see the scale beginning to lean toward the side with the heart.

It was time to intervene.

Talia rose from her hiding place, casting off the cloak Nephthys had given her as she stepped forward.

“No,” she said as she ran forward to put herself between Jason and the scales. “No,” she repeated, “He risked everything to return that which was taken from you!” She pointed at the demoness, Ammit, and the restored feather. “Whatever burden is left, I will take my share. I brought him back and gave him this life. I will take responsibility!”

Ma'at looked displeased, but didn't respond. All the other deities watched silently as the scales continued to tip back and forth, as if equivocating.

“-- _Tt--._ This is ridiculous!” Talia cried. She was irritated and far past her limits of patience. “I've had enough of this.” She looked at Jason, “This is not your journey! These are not your gods! And you will _not_ be judged!”

Talia spun around and grabbed the glowing red heart from the pan -- it felt hot and surprisingly soft between her fingers -- she then thrust it back at Jason's chest.

At first there was resistance as the heart seemed to compress between her palm and Jason's chest. For a moment Talia thought she'd made a terrible mistake, that it wasn't quite so simple to put back Jason's soul, but then she felt it _give_. She shoved harder, pushing the bizarre abstraction of his soul over the place where his heart should be.

It worked. Some inner force of his finally took hold, and all at once the heart-soul was sucked back in. Jason stared back at her, dumbfounded.

Talia grabbed his wrist and ran.

The scene around them started to flicker, alternating between the warm illumination and solidity of the preceding events, and the ghostly dim twilight of when Talia had first entered the realm. It blinked in and out, more and more rapidly until Talia began to grow dizzy. She stumbled blindly, Jason tripping alongside her, as she struggled to figure out which way to go.

The flickering scene stuttered faster until they were finally plunged back into darkness… except for a circle of green light in the near distance. Talia recognized the silhouette that stood beside it -- the shrouded dress, the tall headdress with the curved semi-circle -- Nephthys.

“Come, ‘ _Daughter_ ,’” the goddess’ hollow voice beckoned. “You have done well….”

Talia yanked Jason forward, dragging him with all her might, running past Nephthys and into the circle of light….

////////////////////////////////////

Her head felt foggy as she blinked open her eyes. She was lying on her back, and there was a light coming from some kind of skylight high above. It was too bright and blinding. Talia turned her head away and covered her eyes with her forearm.

“Talia!” A muffled voice screamed her name, and Talia sucked in a breath in alarm. She pushed herself into a sitting position, looking around to try and make sense of her surroundings. She was somehow transported back into the temple where the Amazons had first brought Jason after they had arrived in Bana-Mighdall.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._ A continuous pounding sounded off to her side, and then another muffled cry, “Talia! Talia, help!”

It was Jason! He sounded desperate and scared. They had been returned directly to where they had been before they had been transported into the underworld… or had it all been a dream? Either way, Jason was still trapped in the sarcophagus!

Talia scrambled up to the stone coffin. It was still sealed shut, the lid too heavy for Talia to move on her own. She was back where she started. Damnit! Had the Amazons and their goddess abandoned her and Jason yet again?

Then, as if in direct rebuttal to her inner doubts, the door to the temple burst open. Two silhouettes emerged out of the blinding brightness of day -- one a tall woman with her long hair tied back, the other a hulking figure with a cape -- Artemis and Bizarro.

They rushed forward and immediately lifted away the lid to the coffin. Talia was reaching in even before it had been fully removed. She dragged Jason out, holding him in her arms as he tumbled out onto the dusty temple floor. He clutched at her, sobbing in relief, and Talia clutched him back. He trembled, his hands were bloody, his nails ripped from scratching at the stone lid, but Talia could see the black streaks that had plagued him from the curse were now gone.

She pulled back just enough to brush Jason's hair out of his face, looking down to check his face and neck, then pulling up his shirt to verify that the curse was fully gone. He was bruised and bloody, but the web of black veining had disappeared. He was free.

////////////////////////////////////

Talia moved Jason out of Bana-Mighdall as quickly as she could. Bringing him to the Amazonian tribe had proved to be the right choice, but Talia still didn't trust their motivations. The exception was Artemis. Talia had little choice but to judge her allegiance to Jason to be true, and both her and Bizarro helped Talia extract Jason from the temple without much fuss.

“We escaped not a day ago. We came as quickly as we could, but Batman has been at our heels ever since,” Artemis explained as she carried Jason out of the temple. He had fallen unconscious again, whether from exhaustion or lingering damage from the curse Talia couldn’t be sure, but he needed medical attention as soon as possible. The sandstorm around the city was now dispelling as well. It was now mid-day, and the heat of the sun was beating down upon them in full force.

“I am surprised Batman isn't already here,” Talia remarked.

“You would find it less surprising if you saw what Bizarro did to his plane.” Artemis let a small smirk slip into her mien. “You need not worry,” she further clarified. “Despite their differences, I would not have killed him intentionally. He will be upon us soon enough.”

“Good. Let him come," Talia said dismissively. "But how did you and Bizarro make it through the sandstorm?”

“I am the Shim'Tar. The goddess let me in,” Artemis shrugged.

They loaded Jason into a vehicle Bizarro managed to procure from several kilometers away, and with Talia’s direction, he whisked them away to the closest League compound in Qurac. Medical equipment was at the ready, fluids and blood packs flown in and surgeons called to stem internal bleeding… at least until Essence showed up halfway through to shroud Jason in dark magic. She promptly declared him out of danger before she disappeared again in a puff of smoke.

All that was left for them was to wait….

 

….

 

Talia sat by Jason's bedside, listening to the steady blips and beeps of the monitors, and the watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The room was illuminated by the gentle silver glow of a full moon. It was bright enough that Talia could see the features of Jason's face. Most of it was covered by an oxygen mask, and he still looked frighteningly pale.

Artemis sat vigil by the window, while Bizarro huddled on the floor by the door. It was only a matter of time before a certain pointed-eared shadow loomed out of the darkness of the night.

Talia roused to her feet as the door was suddenly kicked open. Artemis was immediately up and drawing her sword, Bizarro alert and ready as well, but the only figure that passed the threshold was one of Talia's own League guards. He stumbled a few steps and then collapsed unconscious. When Talia turned back toward the center of the room, she came face to face with the familiar cowl and whited eyes of the Batman. His mouth was curled into an angry sneer.

“How is he?” Despite the sentiment of his words, the timbre of his voice was still a growl. Bruce's cadre of children had also slipped into the room behind him, surprisingly silent. The Drake boy was there with his arm in a sling, Richard and Damian stood close to Bruce's side.

Talia waited a few beats, arching her brow at at the scene before her. The bats were all in fight-ready stance. Artemis looked about ready to run someone through, and Bizarro fiercely protective by her side.

This wouldn't do. There were too many people in too small a space, and Talia hadn't gone to hell and back just to have a fight break out that risked serious injury to Jason in his own recovery room.

She addressed Damian, “My son, take the others to the drawing room in the East Wing. I would talk to your father. _Alone._ ”

“Hang on,” Richard put a hand on Damian's shoulder to stop him before he could respond. “You can't seriously expect us to just leave after what you did!”

“I'm not asking you to leave,” Talia leveled a cold look at him. “I'm asking you to wait. And what is it that you think I did, other than save Jason's life?”

Richard squared his shoulders and looked at Bruce, but the latter shook his head. “I'll handle this,” Bruce said, his posture and body language brooked no refusal. Richard stubbornly stood his ground anyway, and would have likely continued if Artemis didn't break the standoff by leaving the room first. Bizarro followed. Talia and Bruce both nodded to Damian, and he sullenly departed along with Tim. Richard was the last to go.

Finally, Bruce and Talia were alone, with no one but Jason lying unconscious between them.

Talia moved to retake her seat by Jason's bed, and Bruce pulled up a chair on the opposite side. He pushed back his cowl as he sat down, reaching out to put his hand over Jason's.

“How is he?” he said again, this time the growl was replaced by the rough tones of concern. He was worried and exhausted, evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes and the pinched lines about his mouth.

“He was near death, but the curse has been lifted,” Talia assured. “He will recover.”

“What happened in Bana-Mighdall?”

Talia paused. In truth, she wasn't quite sure. The episode in the underworld had been both bizarre and surreal. Had Nephthys actually transported her and Jason to the underworld? Had she truly witnessed Ma'at rip the darkness of the beast from Jason's heart? It felt real, and at the same time so much like a dream.

“It doesn't matter,” Talia finally replied. “Jason is here, now. That is what is important.”

Bruce stewed on her response, his hand tightening over Jason's for a moment before relaxing again. When he spoke, he sounded pained. “He didn't want me to help him. Instead he chose _you_.”

Was that an accusation or a self-recrimination? Talia couldn't quite discern which, so she only answered, “Yes.”

“Why?” Bruce followed, this time the anger was unmistakable. He fixed a glare at her, and Talia could see the petulance. The resentment.

It was possessiveness. It was jealousy. It was not unlike how Talia often felt when Damian chose Bruce over herself, and some of the reflexive combativeness in her softened at that. Bruce's pain echoed her own.

Talia looked back at Jason as she replied. “When afraid, one often returns to what is familiar.” She mirrored Bruce and took Jason's other hand. “You weren't there after he died, Bruce. You weren't there after he crawled from his grave, but _I_ _was_.”

“I should have been there.” His eyes were plagued with regret.

“Yes.” Talia knew that feeling well. Regret plagued her too. She had been preoccupied with Jason these last few days, but what Bruce felt about Jason -- she often felt that same pang when it came to Damian. “We have both failed," she said to Bruce, "but we have also both succeeded where the other has not.”

Talia looked past the slats of the window. Outside, the first rays of sunlight were beginning to peak over the horizon. It was a new day, and Jason was now safe. Talia had done what she could for him, but there were still so many things that were still broken. Jason and Bruce for one. As for Talia herself….

Talia stood up. “Stay here,” she said to Bruce. “You should be here when Jason wakes up.”

“Where are you going?”

“Not far.” Perhaps it was not too late to repair some of what was broken for herself as well. “I should find Damian,” Talia said. “He and I owe each other a _heart to heart_ over breakfast tea.”

Talia gave a gentle squeeze to Jason's hand before turning to exit the room, leaving Bruce alone in the room with his son.

  
  


_End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, when I originally started outlining this fic, I thought, "Oh it will be like three short chapters and about 10k words." Well, here you go, triple my estimated words. Oops! I always grossly underestimate how much time things take too, and then I overwork myself trying to things done. Last night I worked almost 12 hours and until midnight doing jobby stuff, and today is the start of my vacation and I have a flight in a few hours. I wonder if its possible for me to relax, lol.
> 
> Well, for those of you who stuck it through, please tell me what you think! I looooved reading everyone's comments, and thank you everyone who left a kudos. Thanks so much for sharing the love!
> 
> Now to write my mini-bang fic, for which I still need ideas :o


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